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V 






"When the Wildwood Was in Flower." 



A NARRATIVE 



COVERING THE FIFTEEN YEARS' EXPERIENCES OF 

A STOCKMAN ON THE WESTERN PLAINS. AND 

HIS VACATION DAYS IN THE OPEN. 



BY 



G. SMITH STANTON, 

Author of "Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger. 



New York: 

J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

57 Rose Street. 



U21 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Recerved 

FEB 3 1909 

Copyrlgnt Entry 
^LA88 JL XXc. No. 
COPY 8. * 



COPYKIGHT, 1909, BY G. SMITH STANTON. 



U ^'//^V'^ 



To those men and laomen who endured the hm^dships and 
braved the daufjers of the frontier that their descend- 
ants might enjoy the comforts and benefits of 
civilization, this volume is dedicated. 



PKEFACE. 

If the autlior-s account herein of his experience with one 
of the <>ii;antic trusts shall help to arouse public opinion 
to the necessit}' of crushing those great combinations ere 
they become the absolute dictators of our Government, 
this little volume will not have been issued in vain. 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. PAGE 

New York to "the End of the Line" 11 

CHAPTER II. 
Following the Trail 1^ 

CHAPTER III. 
Life on the Frontier ^^ 

CHAPTER IV. 
Winter on the Prairie ^^ 

CHAPTER V. 
Running a Stock Ranch ^ ' 

CHAPTER VI. 

Shipping Stock to Chicago 1^ 

CHAPTER VII. 
Atmospheric Disturbances ^1 

CHAPTER VIIL 
Up Against the Red Man ^^ 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IX. 
The Plains and the Rockies 65 

CHAPTER X. 

The Passing of the Stockman 75 

REMINISCENCES OF THE AUTHOR'S 
VACATION DAYS. 

I. — Lost in the Maine Woods 85 

II. — Taken for a Game Warden 93 

III. — Hunting the Caribou 97 

IV.— Curing a ''Butterfly'' 102 

V. — The Obliteration of a "First Impression". . . 108 

VI. — Life at a Sporting Camp 112 

VII.— The Reformation 120 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

West Point 1^ 

On the Grade 1^ 

The Alkali Overland Coach 1^ 

^^Hauds Up !'' 1^ 

The Valley of the Boyer, Woodbine 20 

This is '^By'' -^ 

A Prairie Wolf 25 

The Valley of the Pigeon— "Stanton's Eanch" 28 

The Author, When Mayor of Woodbine, Iowa 31 

First Touch of Winter on the Northwestern 33 

A Self-binder 38 

The Beef Trust Will Get the Profit -^0 

The Home of the Stockman and His Herd 4D 

The Author's Wife and Her Indian Pony 53 

"Texas," Our Mainstay 5^> 

Little Wolf's Double. <>0 

The Original American ^^3 

Omaha 6(> 

Denver and the Ever Snow-capped Rockies ^">^ 

Fryer's Hill in the Long Ago ^^ 

The Little Pittsburg in the Good Old Days '^'3 

:\Iy Last Bunch of Stock ""^ 

Union Stock Yards, Chicago ^ ^^ 

Sportsman's Show, Madison Square Garden S(> 

Lost in the Maine Woods ^1^ 

On the Waters of the East Branch 95 



10 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

The Last Sleep of a Caribou 99 

In the Bad Old Winter Time 100 

Miss Butterfly as She is To-day 105 

It Tastes Better in Closed Time 109 

Chase's Carry 110 

Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger 113 

'^Admiral" MeNaughton and His Fleet 117 

This is He, "Ah, There!'' 123 

The Author 129 



When the Wildwood was in Flower 



CHAPTER I. 



NEW YORK TO '^THE END OF THE LINE." 



Back in the early sixties, as the announcer of the arrival 
and departure of trains at the old Thirtieth Street Depot, 
New York City, over the Hudson River Railroad, was call- 
ing "Chicago express noAv ready,'' the author of this little 
volume, grip in hand, was about to follow the admonition 
of the greatest editor the New York Tribune ever had — 
"Go West, young man !" This particular young man had 
recently graduated from the Columbia College Law School, 
and on account of his health had decided to start a stock 
ranch on a large tract of land in western Iowa left to him 
in the will of his grandfather, Judge Daniel Cady. Think 
of the transformation from a law office in Nassau Street 
to an isolated stock ranch on the Missouri River! While 
the train was passing West Point we were performing the 
disrobing act prior to our taking advantage of the invent- 
ive genius of one Mr. Wagner. For eight hours of re- 
freshing sleep we returned thanks to mine host Wagner. 
As we passed tlinmgh the metropolis of the West, situated 
on the western shore of Lake Michigan in that one-time 

11 



12 



WHEN THE W1L1>W()0D WAS IN FLOWER. 



bog-hole where Fort Dearborn once stood, little did I know 
what an important part in niv future the Union stock- 
yards of that great city were to play. 

What is now known as the Chicago and Northwestern 
Railroad was the first railway across Iowa, and it had rails 




West Point. 

laid at that time to the town of Montana, now Boone, about 
200 miles west of the Mississippi River. I was glad to 
learn that 'Tullmans'' ran to the end of the line. Not- 
Avithstanding it is over forty years since I first saw 
that frontier town, still I can see it to-day as vividly as 
when I stepped from the train just as the sun was showing 
its head over the prairies of the Hawkeye State. Daily 
stages started for the W(^st, but I thought I would tarry 
a day or two and look around. When I was attending 
Columbia College Law School in Lafayette Place, New 



13 

York City, we were livincj on West Forty-fifth Street. I 
always walked to and from the school. My course lay down 
Fifth Avenue to Broadway, and down Broadway to Astor 
Place. There was nothino- about Boone that reminded me 
of Fifth Avenue or Broadway. 

Ima«ine about two hundred one-story, detached, frame 
buildin<»s, about every other one a saloon, gamblincr-house 
or dance-hall, strunii^ aloni*- a street — simply a stretch of 
prairie about GO feet in width — with not a tree in si^^ht, 
crowded with a sample of every brand of citizen from 
border to border, and you can i)retty nearly size up a town 
at ''the end of the line." The buildino^s were thrown to- 
gether, as it was only a question of thirty days before they 
would be again moved to "the end of the line.'' There was 
plenty of music and whiskey. Occasional fights added to 
the excitement. Tall, black-mustached, rough-looking men, 
with wide sombreros, their pants in their boots, armed 
cap-a-pie, jostled their way through the street looking for 
trouble and generally finding it. Young officers from the 
government forts, dressed in the uniform of the United 
States army, were sipping wine with straw-haired girls. 
Indians decked out with feathers, moccasins and a blan- 
ket, were on the still hunt for firewater to drink and dogs 
to eat. One of the Indians, more successful than the oth- 
ers, got too much fireAvater. He had shed his blanket, and, 
in the garb of Adam, with the exception of feathers on his 
liead and moccasins on his feet, with a war-whoop, knife 
in hand, undertook to carve a way up the street. Above 
the heads of the retreating crowd circled a lariat, nnd as 
it settled over the red man's shoulders it tightened, and Mr. 
Indian bounced behind a cowboy's ponv to the coohu*. 

Leaning against the bars were young men from the 
East, each a mother's hope and pride, who had left their 



14 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



happy homes to seek their fortunes in the new Eldorado. 
The men beliind the bar, those in front of it, and the fellow 
waiting to be asked, Avere trying to express their views at 
one and the same time. Capitalists from Xew York and 
England, with mining engineers, were on their way to 




On the Grade. 

the Rockies. Unhaltered mules wandered around the town, 
and every now and tlien some vicious cuss with his ears 
back would kick a swath doAvn the thoroughfare. lAunber- 
ing oxen were slowly moving through the street yoked to 
Avagons marked ^'U. S.," loaded with grain and provisions 
for the forts and reservations Long lines of mule teams 
were constantly going down the grade carting scrapers, 
grain and grub. 



NEW YORK TO ''THE END OF THE LINE.'' 15 

It is astonishing:^ the profanity it requires to bnild a 
railroad. If profanity were of intrinsic value and could 
be put in cold storaj^e, I heard enouiih of it the two days T 
passed in Boone to pay the dividends on the stock of the 
Northwestern for oenerations to come. Prairie schooners 
loaded with tlie families and household effects of sons of 
toil from Indiana and Illinois were windino- their way 
tlirou-h the outskirts of the town to accept Uncle Sam's 
hospitality and settle on the oreat plains beyond. Herds 
of -rass-fed cattle, smooth and fat, were arrivin- from 
the luscious orasses of the INIissouri Eiver plateau to be 
shipped to the Eastern markets, and paid-off cowboys 
would ride on buckin- ponies throuoh the dance-houses 
shootino' daylioht throuoh the roofs. All nioht lono- ties 
and rails were bein.i? unloaded from oondola and box cars. 
There was one i^reat satisfaction in it all, everybody was 
an American, and Enolish the only language heard. The 
immio-rant from the other side had not yet driven the 
American from the labor market. The sense of fair 
play pervaded the community, and there was a body of 
citizens always standing around who took particular pains 
to see that everybody, no matter who or what he was. got a 
square deal. 



16 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD \yAS IN FLOWER. 



CHAPTER II. 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 



The second morniii.t» after my arrival I took the stage 
for the West. The oiittit was similar to the now historic 
Deadwood Coach. With seven passengers besides myself, 




The Alkali Overland Coatih. 



it started dow n the road for the bridge over the Des Moines 
River, and the limitless prairies beyond. Sitting bolt up- 
right for thirty-six hours, with oidy short intervals to 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 1< 

stretch your legs and supply the inner man, was quite a 
change from the lower berth of a Pullman and ''dinner is 
now ready in the dining-car." Think of the forty-niners; 
they had sixteen days and nights of it! They deserved the 
gold they got. Following one of the old stage routes across 
the plains would have been a bonanza for the ''old hats" 
man of the city, as the road was strewn with hats jostled 
off from dozing passengers. Frequenth^ passing us, both 
day and night, were horsemen going like the wind, whom 
I learned were special government and express messengers. 
During the night a feeling of lonesomeness came over me. 
At every turn of the wheels I felt myself going farther and 
farther from the Bowery. It seemed as if I were cutting 
loose from everything. I commenced for the first time to 
realize the situation, and Avas fast getting a case of "cold 
feet." 

Think of leaving behind the gay Fashion Course and Hi- 
ram Woodruff, as we often saw him, holding the ribbons 
over some fast trotter ! What a delight after the day's work 
was done to stroll down RroadAvay to Niblo's Garden, and 
after the show to drop into Jolin ^lorrissey's for a mid- 
night lunch, and to play tlie ace to Avin. What a pleasure 
it Avas to look across the footlights at old John Gilbert and 
Lester Wallack, or to feel your blood tingle as Edwin 
Booth in Hamlet Avould repeat the lines "Do you see noth- 
ing there?" What I noA'cr to see Dan Bryant and Dave 
Reed dance "Shoefly" again? The ideal What a recrea- 
tion it was to go ovQv to the Elysian Fields in Ilt)boken 
in the afternoon and see the ^lutuals play the great Ameri- 
can game, and in the evening see old Mike Phelan and 
Dudley Kavanaugh toy Avith the ivories! We often passed 
the time of day Avith Gomniodore Vanderbilt Avhile driving 
through Central Park. How that gifled sjx^aker, James T. 



18 WHEN THE WILDWOOI) WAS IN FLOWER. 

Bradv, during the war, used to enthuse our patriotism! 
What a treat it was to drop into some forum and hear the 
learned Charles O'Conor lay doAvn the law. Often have 
we gone to the large hall of Cooper Institute and listened 
to that graceful elocutionist, Wendell Phillips, deliver one 
of his famous lectures, and on Sunday morning to Brook- 
lyn and heard Brother Beecher tell us Avhat we had to do 
to reach the promised land, and in the afternoon to Coney 
Island, to eat clams on the half shell at the old Pavilion, 
see the three-card monte men fleece the unsophisticated, 
and try to wash our sins away among the great combers of 
the deep. 

I was leaving all this, and more, and what for? My 
health. Can health come to the body with the mind in 
gloom? Why couldn't Ave all have health all the time? 
God help the one who has the money and the health ques- 
tion to contend with at the same time. One is always being 
neglected for the other, and, under the pressure of the com- 
bination, frail humanity soon gives way. 

What a sweep there is to the imagination and Avhat 
timidity comes Avith the stilly night! I felt as if I 
Avanted to jump from the stage and bolt back to 
Boone, and very likely Avould if I hadn't suddenly 
been brought to my senses by a sharp command — 
"Halt, throAV up your hands!" two shots almost simulta- 
neously, a crack of the whip, and the sudden lunge of the 
stage forAvard. I soon learned tlmt a lone bandit had 
attempted to hold us up, and liad been shot by the Wells- 
Fargo express messenger Avho sat beside the driver. I 
was satisfied to sit still. Instead of meditating, I Avas 
congratulating myself that I was alive and my money safe. 
It is an old but true saying that Ave never knoAV Avhen Ave 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 



19 



are well off. That little episode dispelled tlie gloom, and 
"Kicliard is himself again." 

At dusk on the second day we had covered the one hun- 
dred miles between Boone and a little hamlet forty miles 
east of Council Bluffs, consisting of a store, a post-office, a 
tavern, two houses and a mill, known as Woodbine, my des- 
tination. Not very exhilarating surroundings to a ^'outh 
fn^sli from Broadwav. Litth^ did I know tliat vears aftc^r- 




" Hands Up!" 

ward a flourishing municipality by the same name would 
l)e built near by on the Northwestern Railroad, and I 
would have the honor of being its mayor. 

The last twenty-five miles were down the far-famed val- 
ley of the Boyer Biver, afterward to prove to be one of 
the most productive valleys of one of the best agricultural 
States of the Union. It was a lovely spring day. In the 
early morn the soft, melodious crowing of the prairie chick- 
ens greeted us. The prairi(^s were decked out in the flowers 



20 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



of the wild, and as we bowled along it seemed as if Nature 
was doini> all she could to make us welcome. Eveivthinir 
was quiet, peaceful and content. A few A^ears ago I passed 
down the same valley. What a change in forty years I It 
was gashed by two railroads, and where the prairie flower 
once bloomed and the wild game flourished, and the Indian, 
the only contented individual who ever inhabited America, 




The Valley of the Boyer, Woodbine. 

roamed at will, were hard-working toilers trying to eke 
out an existence. Little hamlets were scattered here and 
there, with the daily life similar in all communities, con- 
taining more shadow than sunshine, and the question was 
forced upon me, would it not have been better if the trans- 
formation had never been made? 

Twenty miles from Woodbine, in the isolated valley of 
the Pigeon Kiver, I was to live for the next fifteen years. 
Near Woodbine on a stock ranch lived the man Avith whom 



rOLLOWlNtJ THE TRAIL. 21 

I had become acquainted through correspondence, the on(^ 
whom I soui»ht and who willin^i»h' assisted me in the enter- 
prise in Avhich I was about to embark. A man nmde after 
God's own imai>e, no more upright, honorable human being 
was ever born than the one whom I was afterward to be 
associated with in the great cattle industry of the plains, 
Byron C. Adams, better known all over the West and to 
every shipper of live stock to Chicago as ^'By" Adams, and 
I hope there is a hereafter that I nmy meet my dear friend 



WHEN THE WILDWUOD \YAS IN FLOWER. 



CHAPTER III. 



LIFE OX THE FRONTIER. 



The spring, summer and fall were passed constructing 
the necessary b«aildings, getting together provender, and 
scouring with ''By'- the western part of the State for stock 
as a starter. The fellow who made the statement that 
horseback riding was the best outdoor exercise of all, hit 
the buirs-eve plumb in the center. The pale, sickly law 
student from 49 Nassau Street, commenced to put on color. 
^^By" was constantly giving me pointers on the stock busi- 
ness. Gathering up steers here and there, and then trying 
to drive the bunch with every one of them wanting to bolt 
back home, keeps a fellow sliding on the saddle. For my 
health while in Xew York City I attended John Wood's 
gymnasium on Twenty-eighth Street, and rode horseback 
through Central Park ; but trying to head a steer on the 
prairies of the West, for healthful exercise, takes the blue 
ribbon over all the gymnasiums and bridle paths in the 
universe. 

I will never forget the day that ''By'' and I were driving 
a bunch of stock, and he called my attention to a particular 
steer who kept craning his neck and looking back. "By'' 
told me that fellow would bolt before long, and when he 
did he would take after him and wind him, and I was to 
try and hold the rest of the h.erd. Shortly, with tail in 



LIFE ON THE FltONTIEll. 



23 



the air, the animal wiiirlcd and holUMl back over tlie ])i'airie 
and disappeared over a hill with "By" after him with his 
stock whip circling in the air. I had little difficulty hold- 




4 



.^ 



/' 



( 

I 



This is "By." 

ing th(^ herd, as they were hunory and commenced feeding. 
I rode to the top of the nearest hill to get a view of 
the process of winding a steer. Every once in a while 
among the hills I wcmld catch a sight of *'By" and the 



24 WHEN THi: WILDWUOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

steer and could hear the stock whip as it snapped pieces of 
hide from the animal's back. In about half an hour I saw 
the animal comino back with ''By'' riding leisurely in the 
rear. The animal's tongue was hanging out about a foot. 
As we started the herd along, "Bv's" friend took the lead, 
and seemed willing to admit that the man on horseback is 
a dangerous proposition. 

One of the first acquaintances I formed in the West, of 
the animal kingdom, was the prairie wolf or coyote. The 
wolf has a few ideas worth taking note of. His den is a 
hole in the ground, but dug in such a way that neither the 
elements nor his enemies can get at him. He usually 
selects a side hill and digs a hole down about eight feet 
at an angle of forty-five degTees and then goes up about 
two feet and excavates the den. Here the little wolves 
are born, but there is no ''little window where the sun 
comes peeping in at morn." \yhen the rain comes it runs 
down the incline and at the bottom soaks away, but the 
den is high and dry, showing the wolf had a great head. 
If anything crawled down the hole, when it struck the 
angle the wolf would be above it, and it is generally the 
case in this world that the fellow who is on top when the 
row begins has the advantage, and the wolf family seem 
to be aware of that fact and build their habitations accord- 
ingly. 

My dog Texas and the wolves were great friends. Often 
early in the morn we would see the dog playing with the 
wolves along the Pigeon. One old wolf, in particular, and 
Texas seemed to be the best of friends; the wolf would 
chase the dog down the river bottom, and then ''Old Tex,'' 
in turn, would chase the Avolf, and then they would rear 
up and clinch. Thus would the wild and the tame meet 
on the level and act on the square. All ''nature fakirs'' 



LIFE Ox\ THE FKONTlElt. 



25 



agree that animals of similar species communicate with 
each other. I often wondered, as I saw^ ''Tex" and the wolf 
momentarily resting from the fati<>ue of the play, with their 
noses together, what they were saying. That is beyond the 











Jl 



A Prairie Wolf. 

imagination to fathom, an<l wliat Avould I not have given 
to have had my curiosity satisfied ! 

The saying "keep the wolf from the door" does not 
refer to the prairie species, for if there was ever a coward 
it is the prairie wolf. He never had sand enough to go 



26 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWER. 

near anybody's house, let alone the door, so if the bank 
account of any reader of this little yolume is nearing the 
zero mark and he sees a wolf heaye in sight, he need not 
worry if it is of the prairie species. 

Eyery animal has a means of defense, and the Supreme 
Being ^yheu he made a prairie wolf knew he was making 
a quitter, so he gaye him the most unearthly yell of all the 
four-footed animals. If you didn't kno\y there was a cow- 
ard back of that yell you might feel a little neryous. 
Shakespeare must haye had the prairie wolf in yiew Ayhen 
he coined the phrase, '^ Sound and fury signify nothing." 
If any college could get on to that yell, the others would 
certainly throAy up the sponge. The prairie wolyes gen- 
erally trayel in pairs. They haye the habit at night of 
sitting on different hills and yelling wireless messages to 
each other, and, as the unearthly noise echoes and re- 
echoes among the hills, it is anything but a pleasant lullaby. 
The only time they show any grit is when the}^ are in a 
pack and half famished. I neyer kne^y of their killing 
a human being, but I don't know what might haye hap- 
pened to a mail-carrier on one occasion if some of my men 
and I had not dropped around at an opportune time. 

Before the days of the railroads the mail was carried 
across Iowa by relays. A relay was from one county seat 
to that of an adjoining one. The mail route between 
Harlan in Shelby County and Magnolia in Harrison Coun- 
ty, a distance of fifty miles, passed through my land. I 
was a little out of the direct line, but on account of a shal- 
low ford across the Pig(M)n Kiyer, which ran through my 
place, the mail route made a slight detour, My place Ayas 
about half way between Harlan and Magnolia, and the 
mail-carriers generally stopped with me for dinner, and 
I was lilad they did, as they brouiiht ''the latest news 



LIFE OX THE FKONTIEli. L' 1 

from the front." The mail-carrier's outfit consisted of a 
horse and a buckboard. They generally carried a half 
dozen pouches. Everybody in those days went armed, as 
bands of Indians occasionally circled around, and horse 
and cattle thieves were on the lookout to catch you nap- 
piu<i'. Colt's revolvers were the means of <lefense. 

One day when the carrier was due from the east, I was 
out with some of the boys in search of a couple of tvro-year- 
olds we hadn't seen with the herd for several da^'s. We 
were leisurely loping along when otf to the east on a divide 
about a mile away we saw the mail-carrier with his horse 
on the jump followed by a pack of wolves. We saw him 
throw something overboard, which stopped the pack for 
a minute or two. It was a mail bag. We started in full 
gallop for the ford, and as Ave came up the bank we saw 
the mail-carrier coming at breakneck speed down a long- 
hollow leading to the ford, with the pack at his heels. It 
was lucky for him that his horse had good Avind and was 
sure-footed, or it might have been a case for the coroner, 
although I believe if the fellow had stood his ground he 
might have scared them otf. Where he made a mistake 
was that all he carried as a means of defense was an old 
horse-pistol. We tired our revolvers as we rode up the 
hollow, hoping to attract the attention of the wolves, vhicli 
it seemed we did, for they slackened their pace and as we 
came up they slunk awa3\ 

The horse was all foam and the carrier as white as a 
sheet. I helped him to the ramh, sending the boys back 
on the trail to gather ui) the scatterc^l mail. That night 
the carrier told us he wouldn't cross that prairie again for 
the proceeds of all the star routes in the {State. And, sure 
enough, that was his last trip. 1 didn't blame him, as it 
was a lonely twenty-fiA'e miles, without a habitation. He 



2S WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

must baA'e told the luaii who took his job of his experience, 
for when the new mail-carrier arrived his outfit looked 
like a battleship. He had guns and ammunition enough to 
kill all the wolves in the State. 

The fellow the wolves took after, told us the only thing 
that saved his life Avas that about a mile back from where 
Ave saAv him he shot one of the Avolves and the pack stopped 




The Valley of the Pigeon, "Stanton's Ranch." 

to eat it up. It does seem that tlie saying '^dog eat dog'^ 
is ever being enacted. One would think that kind Avould 
protect kind, but it is not always so Avith wild animals, or 
domestic, for that matter. Take cA^en tlie poultry yard. 
Any breeder of poultry knows that if one of the birds gets 
sick or injured, the others pounce upon liim. Huivianity 
for the moment stands aghast at such horrors, but hoAV 
about this same humanity? Hoav does the society lady 
treat her fallen sistc^r? What do the men do to their 



LIFE OX THE FUONTIEU. 29 

former business associate as he starts down the toboggan? 
Yet we pose as teachers of the heathen I 

Every good story having a Western brand was during 
the war repeated by the friends and enemies of President 
Lincoln as ''Old Abe's last.-' One of the stories appropri- 
ated as one of Abe's actually originated in the court house 
at Harlan, Shelby county, Iowa, and a lawyer by the name 
of Joe Smith was the originator. As already stated, my 
place on the Pigeon was about half way between the county 
seats of Shelby and Harrison Counties. I often enter- 
tained the court and bar as they passed from one county 
seat to the other. They were a witty and bright lot of fel- 
lows, but poor in purse. Their clothes had seen long 
service and represented all the styles before the war. Joe 
was a great wit, and, unfortunately, always broke. Once 
while attending court at Harlan and while waiting for 
his own case to be called, he got quite interested in the 
case which was being tried. The seat of the trousers of 
one of the attorneys who was trying the case was worn 
through, and as he wore a sack coat and while addressing 
the jury would lean forward, one could see through the 
hole in the trousers the white shirt within. A philanthropic 
brother attorney had drawn up a subscription paper and 
passed it around among the lawyers for signature, the 
purport of which was to buy the brother attorney a new 
pair of trousers. Seventy-five cents in those days would 
have accomplished the mission. When it came Smith's turn 
to sign, he, being broke as usual, wrote the following en- 
dorsement on the subscription paper : ''On account of my 
financial condition I am unable to contribute anything 
toward the object in view." 



30 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



CHAPTER IV. 

WINTER ON THE PRAIRIE. 

Those who never passed a vrinter on a Western prairie 
have but a faint idea of the meaning of the word. One of 
the coldest and severest I ever passed was when I was 
niavor of Woodbine. The mercury sank into the bulb of 
the customary thermometer, and it required a spirit ther- 
mometer to register the cold. One night it touched forty- 
four degTces below zero. Clerks who slept in the stores 
froze their ears while in bed. Wooden sidewalks lined 
the streets of the town; all through the night there was 
a fusilade of thuds sounding like shots from muffled guns. 
It Avas the nails springing from the boards, caused by the 
intense cold. It Avas that night and the thermometer at 
the hotel where I stopped, Avhich formed the foundation 
of the story about the nail freezing off on which hung the 
thermometer. It seems the nail shot out, the thermometer 
falling to the ground. ^^Sun dogs" accompanied the sun 
by day, and the northern lights the stars by night. 

The greatest sufferers on the frontier from the winter 
blasts were the four-footed animals, on account of the lack 
of protection. It was all the newly arrived immigrants 
could do to find shelter for themselves, let alone the stock. 
I have had cah^es born in cornfields when it was twenty 
below zero. The little ones seemed to weather the con- 



WINTER ON THE PRAIRIE. 



31 




The Author, When Mayor of Woodbine, Iowa. 



ditions, tlioiiiili often losing- their tails. Worse than the 
clear cold were the blizzards. Th(\v were th(^ hoys that 
made ''Ivonie howl." Neither \\'ebster's nor Worcester's 



32 WHEX THE WILDWOOl) WAS IN FLOWER. 

dictionaries contain Avords whicli can do justice in describ- 
ing a Western blizzard. The nearest building to my house 
was within about two liundred and fifty feet. The duration 
of a blizzard is generally three days. In one particular 
blizzard lasting the usual limit I never once caught sight 
of that building. 

I still remember a snow storm which covered to the 
depth of about three feet a hog lot in whicli there were 
over one thousand hogs. In looking over that mantle of 
snow no one would have surmised that thereunder were 
over one thousand hogs peacefully snoring the happy hours 
away. The evening before was unusually warm, and the 
hogs went to sleep in the open lot. During the night it 
grew cold and the snow began falling, but the hog^ being 
one of the laziest animals on earth, hugged the ground. In 
the morning, with scoop shovels, we dug them out. In 
digging down, as we would strike a hog the fellow would 
give an angry snort, as if to say, ^'Why the devil can't you 
let a fellow alone?" After a blizzard was over the first 
navigators were men on foot, tlien came the man on horse- 
back, and then the sleigh. Sometimes during the blizzard 
the herd would break from the corral and go with the 
storm, often perishing in their tracks. 

The railroads over the prairies had their experience 
also with the beautiful snow. Before the time of snow 
fences the trains were often stuck in the cuts. I remember 
after one storm, in particular, that the Northwestern never 
turned a wheel for three weeks. I saw a freight train of 
forty cars in a cut completely covered over, with nothing 
in sight but the smokestack of the locomotive. The train- 
men had retreated to the nearest farm house. I have 
heard of a span of horses coming into town Avith the driver 
sitting upright in the seat, reins in hand, frozen to death. 



WINTER ON THE PRAIRIE. 



33 



I have no doubt whatever that in the intense cold of the 
Northwest a human being can freeze to death without the 
least pain and not knowing he is freezing. With one of 
my men I had an experience that would confirm that opin- 
ion. Wliile operating my stock ranch the territory over 
which I had absolute ownership consisted of two square 




First Touch of Winter on the "Northwestern." 

mik's. The buildings were on tlie soutlierly end of the 
property. That particular winter several stacks of hay 
were at the northern end of the ranch. On account of a 
scarcity of hay at the feed yards I and one of the men 
started for the other end for hay. There was two feet 
of snow on the ground, the wind was in tlie north, and it 
was tAvent^^-five l)ehjw zero. A liay-rack is as Avell V(^n- 
tilated a convevance as aiiv fi-esli-air fiend could desii-e. 



34 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWER. 

While going up we sat opposite each other. A white spot 
would commence to show itself on my face and my man 
would say, ^'Mr. Stanton, your left cheek is freezing.'' A 
rubbing would restore circulation. The next minute I 
would see some part of his face turn white. "Dick, your 
right ear is freezing/' and that was the condition oyer the 
two miles ; but when we arriyed at the- hay-stack and got 
alongside of it with the horses' noses to the south, you 
would haye thought we had gone crazy the way we jumped 
into that stack. It was either Ayork or freeze. As we tray- 
eled back with our circulation restored, the wind at our 
backs, the sun shining doAyn upon us as we hugged into 
the hay, we could hardly realize that a few moments before 
Aye Ayere actually freezing and didn't know it. 

Being a loA^er of animals, nothing disturbed my slum- 
bers more than Ayhen one of those terrific blizzards Ayas on, 
for I Ayould realize the suffering of those dumb animals 
Ayho looked to me for protection. No matter how much 
lumber and nails you used, those aAyful Ayinds Ayould find 
an opening; eA^n a knot-hole seemed to be enougii At 
last I solved the problem, and my scheme Ayas followed 
by all my neighbors. Instead of stacking my small grain 
in the fields Ayhere it Ayas cut and thrashing it there, and, 
as Ayas usually the custom, burning the straAy, I had the 
bulk of the unthrashed grain hauled to one of the cattle- 
yards and stacked alongside of a pole-shed I erected. I 
selected a leA^el place about forty feet square and built a 
shed of lieaA^y forked poles al)out ten feet long, set them 
in the ground about three feet, and about ten feet apart, 
laid poles and brush across the top, and, Ayith the excep- 
tion of a narroAy entrance in the soutliern exposure, board 
ed the shed on the outside, \yhen tlie grain Avas thiashed 
we set the thrashing machine so tliat the straw-carrier 



WIXTKK OX TIIK I'KAIRIE. 35 

was over the shed. After the <»raiu was thrashed, the 
straw covered the shed to the depth of, say, twenty feet, 
and at least fifteen feet thick al] around it. No wind could 
penetrate fifteen feet of straw. Looking at that immense 
straw pile one would little surmise that in the center of it 
Avas a shed fort}^ feet square and seven feet in the clear. 
With the exception of the entrance I built a barbed-wire 
fence around the straw pile. With the boards on the inside 
and the fence on the outside, the cattle could not disturb 
the straw. When the blizzard was on I knew that at least 
some of my cattle were as comfortable as myself, and as 
I would look out of the entrance of my straw pile shed at 
the howling blizzard I could realize the protection and com- 
fort of the Esquimaux in his hut in the frozen north. 

As one rode over the prairies of western Iowa in the 
early sixties he could see the bones of Avild animals that 
had become extinct. Fre<|uently 30U Avould see tlie horns 
of deer nearly consumed by time and the devastating- 
prairie fire. Up to and during the early fifties, herds of 
buffalo, elk and deer reamed over western Iowa and east- 
ern Nebraska, contiguous to the Missouri IJiver, but th(^ 
terrific winters of the middle fifties drove the butfalo to- 
ward the foothills of the Rockies, and exterminated the 
elk and deer. One of the Avinters of the middle fifties Avas 
known for years as "the Avinter of the deep snow." The 
snow Avas so deep and fell so Icwel that the deer Avere un- 
able to reach food or shelter, and became an easA" prey to 
man, but more particularly to the Avolves. The Avolves 
could skip oA^er the crust of snow while the poor animal, 
with its sharp hoofs, Avould break through to its belly and 
become an easy prey. The bulfalo was also exterminated, 
not by the elements, but by man. Thousands were killed 



36 WHEN THE WILDWUOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

simply for their skins. Man i?* forever hunting the wild, 
often simply for its head, skin or plumage, and where 
there are no wild animals to kill or pelts to obtain, he then 
turns on his fellow man, and tries to remove the hide from 
him. 



RUNNING A STOCK RANCH. 



CHAPTER V. 

RUNNING A STOCK RANCH. 

It was while I was in Iowa that the transformation 
came in tlie harvestinc^ of small "rain. I saw the trans- 
formation from the cradle, not to the <>rave, but to the self- 
binder. The advent of the railroad brought us the modern 
machinery. The cradle was laid aside for what was known 
as the dropper, a machine wliich cut the small orain, it 
fallinoj on to a wicker platform, and when of sufiicicmt 
quantity to make a bundle the driver Avould drop th(^ 
platform and the grain slid off. It required six men 
to keep the grain bound up, before the next round. The 
next improvement was the Marsh harvester. With that 
machine three men accomplished what it took seven with 
the dropper. The three men rode on the machine. The 
^Marsh harvester cut the grain, elevated it to a scoop re- 
ceptacle, alongside of which stood two of the men on a 
platform binding the grain. The next macliine and tlie 
most com])l(^te that any one could desire was th(r self- 
binder. Think of driving into a fiidd of grain with a ma- 
chine that a boy could handle, which wouhl cut the grain, 
elevate it into a receptacle, circle each bundle as it formed 
with twine, tie the twine into a knot, cut tlie twine and 
throw th(^ bundh^, tightly boniid, clear of tlie machine, and 
immediately repeat the operation; su'li v. as the sclf-bimlcr. 



3S 



WHEN THE WH.DWOOl) WAS IX ELOWER. 



AYhat a t>'odsend to the 'Svoinen folks'' was the self- 
binder I In the days of the dropper they had to bake bread 
for a Aveek, kill all the chickens on the place, and peel a 
barrel of potatoes to feed a lot of hungry harvesters. With 
the self-binder there were only the regular household, no 
transient guests. Many a bright summer's morning I have 
driven into a field of vellow arain with mv self-binder, with 




A Self-binder. 



the ribbons over three horses abreast, comfortably 
seated in a cushioned seat with a canopy to protect me 
from the hot rays of the sun, A^ith a long straAV, I on 
one end and an occasional mint julep on the other, and, 
before the sun Avent down, Avith the aid of one of the boys, 
l)ut twenty-five acres of grain into the shock, and never 
turned a hair. 

As the great prairies began to settle up, and the range 



IU'NMN(J A STOCK RANCH. 39 

cut off, the (lay of jun-ass-fcHl cattle saw its finish. (N)rn- 
fed steers came instead. Thousands vif acres of ])rairie 
were broken up, corn planted, and the cattle vardeil to be 
fattened and shipv)ed to the Eastern markets. Absolutely 
nothing but corn was fed. It was fed in the ear, broken 
about twice in two and fed in a large box, similar to a table 
and about as high. The droppings from the cattle w(a-e as 
yellow as corn meal ; in fact, it was ground corn, so to 
speak. In all feed-yards there were twice the number of 
hogs as of cattle ; the hogs were fattened from the droppings 
of the, steers. AYe calculated what passed through one 
steer would fatten two hogs. The cattle ate the corn, 
the hogs the droppings, and we ate the hogs. 

The feed-lot was the cause of the dehorning of cattle. 
As it is with humanity, about every other steer wanted his 
share and part of the other fellow's, and some, after they 
had eaten all they could, tried to keep the others away. 
The result Avas they were continually prodding each other, 
and dehorning was a necessity for fattening purposes. It 
was also a godsend to the shipper. The dehorning process 
Avas simply to run the steers into a shute that narrowed 
as it led on to Avhere only one steer could stand. We would 
then clap a clamp over his neck, and, with a common hand- 
saw, saw his horns off close to the head. I was not aware 
of the anatomical formation, so far as the horn is con- 
cerned, of the head of cattle until after I had done my 
first dehorning. I was riding over th(^ range shortly Ix^fon* 
sundown a feAV days after some dehorning, and as I glanced 
at a steer I saw the sun right thrcmgh his liead. It seems 
the horn of cattle is hollow; that is, there is simply a pith 
in it. Sometimes the pith dries up. In the case of this 
animal the pith had fallen out, leaving a hollow through 
his head. 1 have heard of ^'the wind blew through his whis- 



40 WHEN THE \yiLDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

kers," but I never saw a case before where it blew through 
his head. That steer should never get excited, as the wind 
blowing through his head would certainly keep his brain 
cool. 

How much pleasanter it is to handle an intelligent ani- 
mal than a stupid one. What a difference there is between 



- V 



\ 



^ 



m 










The Beef Trust Will Get the Profit. 

a horse and a horned animal. Though tlie ground is cov- 
ered witli snoAv the horse has intelligence enough to know 
that tliere is plenty of feed underneath, and paws to it, 
but the cattle Avill stand and starve to death. It used to 
make me so mad that I felt like grabbing them by the 
horns and shoving their heads down to the grass. 

In my life on the prairi(^s, where neighbors were few 
and far between, the most dangerous element to contend 



RUNNING A STOCK RANCH. 41 

with was the prairie fires. In my boyhood days, as a 
hunter in tlie Adirondaeks, I learned never to <yo into the 
North Woods without a i>uide. In the fall of the year 
never oo out on the prairic^s of the AVest without a match. 
Many a time while travelin*>- afoot, horseback or in my old 
Schutler wagon, I saved my life when T saw a prairie fire 
comino- by setting- fire to the orass and driving!: on to the 
burned portion. There is nothinj>' more entrancing; than 
to watch a prairie fire, especially at nic^ht, yet it is any- 
thino- but entrancinji: when it is comins; with a hi^h wind 
toward your earthly possessions. I have lost miles of 
fence and hundreds of tons of hay through prairie fires, 
and have back-fired aoainst it and fought it up hill and 
down twenty-four hours at a stretch. 

What a dreary waste back in the early sixties was the 
country west of the Mississippi River! Miles upon miles 
of unoccupied land with not a tree to break the monotony 
of that undulating plain. The only timber in Iowa was a 
fringe along the river bank and here and there a grove. 
God provided for the early settlers, where fuel was con- 
cerned, by allowing an occasional grove of timljer to escape 
the devastating fire of the prairie. The early inhabitants 
of Iowa settled in or near the groves. The cold winters 
necessitated this. Before the advent of the railroad the 
fuel question Avas an important one. On the plains of 
Nebraska there was no timber. The Lord evidently had 
no idea anybody would settle there. The early settlers 
in that vState set aside a field of corn for fuel. There is 
worse fuel than ear corn. On the advent of the railroads, 
coal became the universal fuel. As the great prairie set- 
tled up, groves of trees were planted and hedges set out, 
and that barren waste of the sixties was transformed into 
a beautiful wooded landscape. 



42 WHEN THE WILDWOOI) WA8 IX FLO^YER. 

About the only recreation of tlie farmer on the Western 
prairie was to go to town. With the tired housewife and 
little ones tucked in a wagon, off thev would go. The town 
was the Casino of the farmer. It was the meeting place 
of the isolated settlers. On all the holidays the farmers 
went to town. All kinds of excuses were offered to "get 
to go'' to town. I recall that the whole countryside went 
to town one day to see the eclipse of the sun. With the 
coming of the iron horse came the styles from the East, 
the money-shark, and discontent. In the good old days 
everybody was contented. Mortgages, a stranger in the 
land heretofore, began to appear on the records. On my 
way to town one day I met one of the old settlers, who 
said : "Well, Stanton, I have mortgaged the farm to one 
of them 'ere money critters. I had to pay ten per cent, 
interest, by gosh I and a bonus, I think they calleil it, to 
git the mone}^ Betsey said she wouldn't wear that darned 
old sunbonnet to town again. My boy told me he would 
leave the farm if I didn't get him a top-buggy to take his 
gal out riding, and our little girl has cried ever since she 
see'd that young lady git off the cars at Woodbine with 
them high-heel shoes and a feather in her hat. ^A'ell, I 
be dog-goned, Stanton, if I ain't going to see some of this 
life with the rest on 'em." 

There were two rules which everybod}^ followed — never 
pass a rattlesnake without killing it, and when you went 
to town, call for your neighbor's mail. I use the word 
neighbor, but it hardly applies to the situation, as the 
word ''neighbor" with me covered a circuit of forty miles 
in diameter. I was amused at a remark a fellow made 
when I settled on the Pigeon. His nearest "neighbor" was 
fourteen miles away. My location was about six miles from 
him, whereupon the fellow made the remark: ''Well, I 



RUNNING A STOCK RANCH. 43 

^uess I will have to move; neiiibbors are Jiettinc^ too thick." 
Speakin<? of rattlesnakes, the Indian was the only indi- 
vidual who let the rattlesnakes alone. The rattlesnake 
will always ^We you warning' and will not attack you un- 
less first attacked. The Indian seemed to appreciate these 
two cardinal virtues of the rattlesnake. The bite of the 
rattler is deadly poison and an antidote is necessary to 
save life. Whiskey was as good an antidote as one could 
take, and no larder was complete without it. A weakness 
of one of my neighbors was partaking too freely of the "Oh, 
be joyful" ; in fact, he was under the influence more times 
than over it. Yet he offered a very sensible excuse : "You 
see, boys, it is this way. When one of 3^ou fellows gets 
stung with a rattler you rush all over the neighborhood, 
losing lots of time, hunting for whiskey, and often die be- 
fore you get it; but when a rattler jumps me, the remedy 
is already there, and I keep right on plowing. '^ Mud is also 
a remedy. I recall one time visiting an isolated stock 
ranch, and, as we approached, we saw the only herder in 
a peculiar position on the ground. As we came up to 
him he had one leg bare to the knee in a hole in the ground, 
with a pail of water beside him, and he was tamping wet 
dirt around the leg. He had been bitten by a rattler and 
was applying the only remedy at hand. 

What a comfort were letters and newspapers in our 
isolated homes! It Avas a long way to the post-otiices, so 
the rule of getting each other's mail was strictly adhered 
to, and often, when taken from the post-oflfice, it was a 
long time and by circuitous routes before it finally i cached 
the owner. When one got his neighbor's mail it was not 
expected that he would go miles out of the way to deliver 
it. Sometimes it would be a week reaching its final des- 
tination. One of the most disagreeable nights I ever 



44 WHE^' THE \YILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

passed was trying to locate a letter with other mail which 
had been taken out of the post-office by one of my neigh- 
bors. 

There was a young lady from the East visiting us at the 
time, who was a great letter writer, and I thought she 
would drive us all crazy trying to figure out liow she could 
get her mail to and from the distant post-office. On one 
of my trips to town I found my mail had been taken out 
the day before by one of my neighbors. The postmaster 
was unable to tell to whom he delivered it. It wasn't a 
matter of great concern to me, as I knew it was safe some- 
where and would eventually get around. On my return 
home I made a great mistake. Instead of saying there 
wasn't any mail, I said it was taken out by somebody. 
The words had no sooner left my mouth than our guest 
gave a yell like a, Comanche Indian and almost had a fit. 
It seems she was expecting an important letter. All her 
letters, both going and coming, seemed ^'important,'' and 
those going were generally marked '^in haste." As ev^ening 
approached the more hysterical she got. My wife told me 
there wouldn't be any sleep in that house that night if I 
didn't strike out and get that mail. 

It was more than a night's ride to all my neighbors, so 
I divided up the territory with one of my men. He wan 
to cover one-half and I the other. I was in hopes that my 
nearest neighbor, who was five miles away, would be the 
man, but there was no such luck in store for me. If I had 
known what was ahead of me I would never have left t!i(^ 
place, but slept in one of the barns. There was nothing 
delightful riding over the prairies by moonlight alone, trj^- 
ing to steer clear of dogs while waking your neighbors up 
in the middle of the night. The first streak of daylight 
was shedding its luster over the horizon as Captain Dyes' 



RUNNINCi A STOCK RANCH. 4^ 

place near Cfallon's Grove came in si^ht three miles away. 
The captain's was the last place on my list. xVs I left 
the last place before the captain's — the distance between 
the two beino- seven miles — I came near startin.<»- home, be- 
lievin<>' my man had ,i»otten the "im])ortant" letter (»n his 
ronte. It was lucky that I didn't turn back, as the captain 
had the coveted prize. Old Sol was showing- his scalp 
above the ])rairie orass as I reached the captain's. In the 
cattle-yard was the captain milkini> the cows. I propound- 
ed the now stereotyped (piestion, *'Got any mail for me?" 
^'Yes," came back the repl^^ "Well, Cap, for God's sake 
let me have it.'' I explained the situation, and he 
lauiihed so hard he rolled oif the milk stool. Il(^ad- 
achy and hungry, I started for my home, fifteen miles 
away. When I arrived, the house was in an uproar. No- 
body had slept a wink. The youni? lady had collapsed at 
2 A.M., and they had sent for a doctor. My man liad re- 
turned at that hour Avith the report that some mail had 
been lost by Bill Guppy near Leland's Grove, and he be- 
lieved my mail was amon^^ the rest. The first tliini>- I did 
on my return was to dispatcli one of the men to Wood- 
bine with a r(Niu(\st to tlu^ ])ostmaster: ''Don't deliver any 
of mv mail to anvbodv without an order." 



46 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



CHAPTER VI. 

SHIPPING STOCK TO CHICAGO. 

As ALREADY stated, the Nortlnvestern was the first road 
across Iowa, and the trains were run in a go-as-j^ou-please 
kind of style. There was one passenger train each way a 
day and several freights. They had a schednle jnst to look 
at, but not to rnn by. They would stop anywhere for any- 
thing or anybody. They tell a story that Knox Shoefelt, 
a passenger conductor, held his train while he acted as 
best man at a wedding at a near-by farm house. Like the 
governors of North and South Carolina, it was a long dis- 
tance between stations. As soon as the railroads got 
through, we stock men took advantage of it and commenced 
shipping our stock over the road to Chicago. The engineer 
who ran the freight I usually shipped on was Johnnie 
Wells, and the conductor was Jim Folsom. The boys were 
great hunters and carried their guns along, and while pass- 
ing through Carroll County, where there was a good sup- 
ply of prairie chickens, they often stopped the train to 
knock over a dozen or so. They used to run through Har- 
rison and Crawford Counties as if the Old Nick was after 
them, so as to have plenty of time to hunt in Carroll. 

You who are riding on the Nortliwestern to-day, with its 
double track and its fre(]uent and swift-moving trains, 
think of a freight train standing on the oulv track for 



siiirriN(; stock to Chicago. 47 

lioiirs at a time, and tlie traiiiincii oft' on tlie ])rairi('s linnt- 
ino- chickens. Wlien we arrived at Rooiie, tlie end of the 
division, tlie trainmen were often called n]> by the sn])er- 
iutendent to explain why they conld not make schednle 
time. The hoys spoke of ^'hot boxes," ''broke in two com- 
ing]: over the hills of the divide," and when they ran ont of 
excuses we stock men Avould come to the rescue and tell 
the superintendent the cattle were netting down badly and 
we had to stop and <>et them on their feet ai^ain. 

There is an end to everythinji, and there was a finish to 
Folsom huntino- prairie chickens while running a freight 
train. Jim was caught red-handed, and I was in at the 
kill. One morning, bright and early, I had loaded four cars 
of cattle and two of hogs at St. John, now Missouri Val- 
ley, and Jim came along from Touncil Bluffs on hin way 
to Boone. It was a beautiful day in the fall of the year, 
and the boys thought they would take a shot at some 
prairie chickens. Wells pulled the throttle wide open, and 
away we flew up the valley of the Boyc^r and over the di- 
vide for Carroll County. At a level place in the road the 
boys brought the train to a stop, and over the prairie we 
went after chickens. The train was entirely deserted. We 
had been gone about an hour when there came resounding 
over the prairies a long-drawn-out whistle of a locomotive. 
It seems the superintendent had started out on a pros]KH-t- 
ing tour from Boone and had found Jim's deserted train. 
The cold chills commenced to run \i\) and down tlu^ boys' 
vertebrae as they caught sight of the superintendent's car. 
Jim was equal to the occasion, however. Picking out six 
of the fattest rhickcms, he a])i)roach(Ml the stern-looking 
superintendent with a smile, and, handing out tlu^ cliick- 
ens, said: ''^Ir. Su])erintendent, allow me." Jim by in- 
vitation rode to the next siding in the su])(M*int(Midcnt's car, 



48 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

and what took place at the little seance between them Jim 
would never tell, but the next time I went over the road I 
noticed Ave did not stop at our favorite huntino- o-rounds, 
and as we rolled over the ties through Carroll Countv, Jim 
sat in the corner of the caboose looking through the win- 
dow, and would take a long breath every time he saw a 
prairie chicken fly over the train. But it did not follow 
that Jim never got any more prairie chickens, as they were 
occasionally lying dead along the track by coming in con- 
tact with the telegraph wires. The prairie chicken would 
make a good carrier-pigeon, so to speak, as it is a rapid 
flyer. Like the quail, its breast is large and most pala- 
table. 

INot having been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, 
and having to paddle my own canoe, I naturally have 
tackled some hard propositions, but the toughest job I 
ever undertook was to start from the Missouri River and 
land a consignment of cattle in the Union Stock Yards, 
Chicago, without a loss. The first run was three hundred 
miles across the State of Iowa to the :Mississippi Kiver; 
it generally took thirty-six hours, two nights and a day. 
In loading cattle, on account of the freight charges, you 
naturally would get every steer in a car you could. The 
steers had "standing room only''; conseciuently, if a steer 
got down, which was a very common occurrence, on ac- 
count of the fatigue from standing too long, it was either to 
get tliat ste(^r on liis feet again or he would be trampled to 
death, and away would go the profit on that car of cattle. 
Sometimes you could raise him by standing alongside of 
the car and using your prod — a pole al)out six feet long 
with a shar]) inm point in one end of it — but often you 
had to climb into the end window of the car and go right 
among them, horns, dro])])ings, and all, and take vour 



SHirriNG STOCK TO CHICAGO. 



49 



chauces of ever getting out alive, the trainmen paying no 
attention to you, the train running thirty miles an hour, 
and )naybe it is night and as dark as pitch. As I look back 
to the days and nights when 1 was a ship])er of stoek to 
Chicago, and recall the many horn-breadth escapes I had, 
the wonder is I am alive. 

Many a time 1 have started from the Missouri River for 




The Home of the Stockman and His Herd. 

Chicago with a trainload of stock and never got a wink 
of sleep for twenty-four lumrs at a stretch. I recnll the 
night at Belle Plain that Ave pulled a dead :Mexican out 
of a car of Texas steers. Instead of insisting on having 
his car sidetrackiMl to get up some stt^n's that were down, 
he foolishly crawled into the car and to his finish. What 
a great relief it was on our arrival at tlu^ yards at Chicago, 
as we turned the stock and prod jiole ov(M' to our commis- 



50 WHEN THE WILDWOOI) WAS IN FLOWER. 

sioner and started for the Transit House for a bath, shave 
and a change of raiment, and to enter a clean dining-room 
again for the first square meal in four days, and, after the 
stock was sold, to return home dressed as gentlemen. 
No one would have thought that the well-dressed indi- 
vidual comfortably lounging in a Pullman with an ebony 
employee catering to his wants, was the same unkempt, 
dirty citizen who, but a few hours before, with a four- 
days' growth of w hiskers on his chin, was in a filthy stock 
car trying to get a steer on his feet. 



ATMOSPIIKUIC Dl i>T UUB A NCES. 51 



CHAPTER VII. 

ATMOSPHERIC DISTURBANCES. 

While I was raising stock in the valley of the Pigeon 
for the benefit of the Beef Trust and the railroads, I saw 
the start and finish of one of the greatest scourges that 
ever afflicted a farming community — the destructive locust 
or grasshopper. Anything that can bring a fast-running 
train to a standstill certainly deserves recognition. Many 
a time I saw grasshoppers stop a passenger train on the 
Northwestern. I don't mean they would catch hold of the 
cars and stop the train by main strength, or hop aboard 
and pull tlie bell cord, but they covered the rails in count- 
less thousands, and, like the tramp preferring to die rather 
than move, the locomotive in squashing out their lives so 
greased the track that tlie driving-wheels failed to hold to 
the rails. One fall, about the time the corn crop was 
nearing maturity, there came whirling through tlie air 
millions of grasshoppers. Looking toward the sun they 
appeared like snowflakes. As they descended they acteil 
as if they hadn't had a square meal for a month ; they 
covered the corn, in fact, everything. The only citizens 
who seemed to meet them with a glad hand were the 
turkeys. Unlike the historic bird, he didn't have to sneak 
up behind; but like the enemy of the Light Brigade at 
Balaklava, the grassho])])ers were on all sides. After the 



OU WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

pests had devoured everything that was green and pala- 
table, the}' deposited their eggs in the soil and winged their 
flight to pastures new. The j^jiring sun hatched out the 
eggs, and the newly born devoured the growing crops and 
took their departure as soon as their wings developed. 
There seemed to be nothing to destroy these pests. For 
several falls they made us a visit, then, possibly tiring of 
our society, left us never to return. As the plains to the 
west of us settled up, the breeding places of the locust were 
encroached upon and destroyed, and the grasshopper 
ceased to be a burden. 

Those who have not lived on the prairie will not believe 
the stories of actual occurrences with the wind. It is one 
continual blow night and day from one year's end to the 
otlier. I started one day for market Avith a load of oats. 
It AA as my first experience transporting that article. The 
wind was blowing a gale, and as it struck the wagon it 
formed a Avhirl over the oats and they commenced to circle 
in the air. In spite of all that I could do they kept on 
circling, and by the time I arrived at the market not a 
I^eck of oats was left and I had seeded down the countr^^ 
I was running my ranch at the time the insurance com- 
panies first inserted a clause in their policies against 
''straight winds." For two Aveeks, night and day, there 
came a Avind from the southAvest that caused my house to 
vibrate so Ave dared not sleep in it. During those two weeks 
we slept on the prairie. Hoav trees ever greAV in that coun- 
trA' is beyond my comprehension ! 

The greatest dread of the inhabitant of the prairies is 
the cyclone. Xo one has any conception of a Western 
cyclone unless he has been on the ground, or, I might prop- 
erly say, in the air. One of the Avorst that ever occurred 
in the West I saw, but, thank Heaven, did not feel. I AA'as 



ATMOSl'IIKKIC niSTlUlJAXCES. 



53 



in Mills Couuty, Iowa, buying cattle. It was one of those 
awful hot, niu<i*>y days in Jul}, when you eould look for 
hailstorms, thunderstorms and e^Tlones. 

. 8peakini» of hailstorms, I attril)ute my early baldnc^ss to 
an exiHM'ience I had with a hailstorm. The day the i)artie- 




Ihe AuLhur s Wiff and Her Indian i^onv. 



ular hailstorm I refer to occurred was about as hot as hu- 
manity could bear. I had .i»()ne on horseback to drive up 
some cattle. One of the doi>s went alonj>- with me. I was in 
my shirt sleeves without any undershirt, and wore a straw 
hat, or what was left of it. 1 say what was left of it, as the 



54 WHEN THE WILDWUUD WAS IX FLOWER. 

top of the hat was gone, leaving my ambrosial locks exposed 
to the ravs of the sun. I was as good as bareheaded. You 
often hear of stories of hailstones being as large as hens^ 
eggs and possibly doubted them, but if 3^ou will believe me, 
I have seen hailstones as large as eggs, and double-yolk 
eggs at that. I was on my way back with the herd, and 
as I came over the divide and started down a long hollow 
tliat led to the Pigeon I saw a hailstorm coming up the 
river. When I first saw it, it was about a quarter of a 
mile away and coming as fast as the wind. The stock 
could feel the chill and knew what was coming as well as 
I did, and all hands started on the jump down the hollow 
for the river, in order to get under the protection of the 
bank. Before any of us got half way to the river the storm 
was upon us. Hailstones commenced bouncing off the top 
of my head and welting me on the back. I jumped off 
the horse and tried to keep him between me and the storm, 
but in tr3ing to hold him, we were going around and 
around in a kind of a "two-step," so to speak. There was 
nothing to do but let go of the horse and strike out for the 
river bank. I have heard of the Delaware whipping-post, 
and I can imagine how a fellow's back feels. ^ly dog was 
at my heels, getting it Avith the rest; eA^ery J little way he 
would lie down in the prairie grass and Avhine and then 
up atid after me again. I would hold up my hands over my 
liead and ward off the stones till I could stand it no longer, 
then my head would catch it again. There is one redeem- 
ing feature about hailstorms — they are of short duration. 
But that one lasted long enough to keep me company to 
the river bank. As I reached the bank over I went and 
crawled under the protection of an overhanging sod. The 
sun shone forth again; the cattle, one by one, came out of 
the river bottom ; the horse had gone to the stable, but the 



ATMOSri-lKKIC DLSTlUr.ANCES. Oi> 

over-faithful do<>- was at 1113' side. The liair IkkI partially 
protected iiiv sealp, but my back looked like that of a sinall- 
j)ox patient. That hailstorm utterly destroyed one of my 
corn fields, consisting- of one liundred acres. 

I recall a little episode which occurred in an adjoining 
corn field a month later that laid low another portion of 
my corn crop. Among the other dogs on the i)lace was a 
bulldog. A cattle ranch and bulldogs do not dove-tail 
very well, but as this particular dog was a pet of the ff^nale 
contingent his society was allowed. Like all bulldogs, 
this one was on the popular side of the monopoly question, 
for if he was ever called upon to help the other dogs out, 
where the herd was concerned, he would pick his animal 
and leave the balance of the herd to the rest of tlie dogs. 
So if any reader of this volume intends embarking in the 
cattle business and is a bulldog fancier, he will find it 
necessary to figure one bulldog with every head of stock. 
The little episode I refer to occurred on a certain occasion 
when the cattle broke into a corn field, not an uncommon 
occurrence on all well-regulated farms, and we started 
with a shepherd and a Newfoundland dog to drivc^ 
them out. Without our knowledge the bulldog sneaked 
along. After the other dogs had quietly and suc- 
cessfully, or, at least, we thought they had, cleared the 
field, we heard an awful racket down at one end. Follow- 
ing the noise we found the bulldog and a three-year-old 
dancing the minuet while smashing down corn l)y the rod. 
The dog had the animal by the nos(s and tlu^ steer was 
swinging him around like a professional club swinger. 
Before we got the dog's grip loose, between tlu^ num. Iiorses, 
dogs and steer we destroyed more corn tlian tlie animal 
would have eaten in a month. The bulhlog no doubt 



56 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWEE. 



thought he had performed a heroic act, and he never could 
quite understand, Avhenever thereafter the other dogs start- 
ed after the stock, why he was left in his kennel to meditate. 
In trying to describe a blizzard I mentioned the fact 
that Webster's and Worcester's dictionaries failed to 
supply the necessary words. If in addition to Messrs. 




'Texas," Our Mainstay. 



Webster and Worcester, iNlrs. Webster and Mrs. Worcester 
and all the little Websters and Worcesters were to compile 
dictionaries, there would still be adjectives to coin to prop- 
erly describe a Western cyclone. As already stated, the 
cyclone to which I particularly refer was in ^Mills County. 
While sitting on the piazza of a hotel we heard a low moan- 



ATMOSrilLKir iUSTl'KI'.ANCES. .-) i 

ins sound which one of the bystanders remarked was the 
forerunner of a evclone. Off to the southwest black clouds 
commenced to loom above the liorizon ; hi.nher and higher 
they arose and commenced to whirl in a circle. The nioan- 
inc? we had heard chanjied to a roar. The clouds became 
funnel-shaped, with a long narrow tail hanging toward the 
ground. 

From the hotel steps we saw it bounding along the 
prairie, leaving a track a quarter of a mile wide swept as 
clean as a floor. The little whirlwind in the streets gives 
you the principle of the cyclone. Like it a cyclone forms 
a vacuum, lifting everything from the ground. The cyclone 
passed about a mile south of where I stood. After its 
passage the inhabitants of the adjoining country rushed to 
the aid of the stricken ones. Such a sight I never saw, nor 
ever listened to such experiences. Men, women and cliil- 
dren were found dead, with every strip of clothing gone. 
Houses taken bodily from their foundations, torn into 
pieces and carried away for miles. Gullies full of dead 
animals and refuse, dead chickens Avithout a feather, iron 
machinery twisted like a pretzel, ruin and desolation on 
all sides. A Mr. Osier's place, a gentleman from whom I 
had recently bought some stock, was In the track of the 
storm. His whole family lost their lives; he was saved. 
He told me that at one time he was at least two hundred 
feet in the air, and sailing along with him was a pet colt 
so close he could have put his hand on it. In one of Mr. 
Osier's corn-cribs there was over r),000 bushels of corn; 
not a piece of the corn-crib nor an ear of the corn remained. 
The blacksmith of a village ovtM- which the storm passcnl 
was at work, and as the sho]), which had a dirt floor, lifted 
and started heavenward, 1h^ cj«uiiht hold of the anvil and 



58 WHEN THE WILD WOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

hung on and thereby saved his life. The Eastern farmer 
sometimes deplores his lot, but if he had seen what T saw 
that day he would conclude there was somethino- worse to 
contend with than railroads, commission men, book agents, 
candidates and poor markets. 



UP AGAINST THE RED MAN. 59 



CHAPTER VIII. 



UP AGAINST THE RED MAN. 



In niY career on the plains as a ^'cow puncher," as mayor 
of a frontier town, and as superintendent of a mine in tlie 
early days of Leadyille, Colorado, I haye occasionally been 
where I felt like shying my "caster into the ring" ; but of 
all my experiences I neyer ached to go on "the war path" 
as I did when on the Niobrara Riyer in Nebraska, years 
ago, I saw one of nn^ best friends lying dead, scalped by 
a band of bloodthirsty Indians. Back in the seyenties I 
Ayas interested in a cattle ranch in that locality. The only 
railroad across the plains at the time was the Union 
Pacific. The nearest station of the railroad to our ranch 
was Ogaliala. About tifty miles farther up the riyer from 
the ranch in which I was interested was that of tlie Moore- 
head boys, of Dunlap, Iowa. We often yisited. 8ome of 
my stock had strayed away, and in hunting for them it took 
us in sight of tlie ^Moorehead corral. As we came on to the 
diyi<le from where we ahyays caught sight of the Moore- 
head ranch, we saw a cloud of smoke instead. As we ap- 
proached the place we saw it Ayas entirely consumed. About 
three hundred Awards from the corral we came upon one of 
^loorehead's helpers lying on the ground shot dead and 
scalped. Near the corral lay the (l(\i(l body of Frank 
Moorehead. We knew it was the work of Indians. It 



60 



WHEN THE ^YILD^YOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 




Little Wolf's Double. 



MMMiuMl tliat Little Wi^fs band of riieveinie Indians had 
Inokcn awav from tluMr reservation in tlie Indian Territory 
and had h^ft a track of blood and ashes thrcni-h the States 



UP AGAINST THE Ri:i) MAX. 61 

of Kansas and Nebraska, and it was these devils who had 
done the work. 

Possibly the novice is not aware of the fact that the 
scalp taken by the Indians is that part of the head where 
the hair makes a crown. Some have more than one crown. 
Moorehead must have had two, as he was scalped in two 
places. Over the grave of his dead brother Franks Jim 
Moorehead took an oath of revenge. Whether lie ever got 
revenge or not I do not know, but I do know that Little 
Wolf is dead. The Niobrara country in those days was 
an awful lonesome place. Our nearest town was Ogal- 
lala, one hundred and fifty miles away. There we 
had to go for our provisions and mail. Reports were made 
every two weeks to the owners of the cattle on the range 
which necessitated a ride of one hundred and fifty miles 
and back. I made the ride once and "once was enough for 
liim.'' Loping seventy-five miles between daylight and 
twilight is quite a jaunt, but to get up the next morning 
and go another seventy-five, and then go back over the route 
in another two days is about all the average citizen can 
stand. There was a ranchman's corral just half way to 
Ogallala, where we stopped over night and changed horses. 
It Avas either to make the seventy-five miles to that corral 
in a day or camp out, and I never heard of any of the boys 
taking the camping-out end of the proposition. God help 
them if they did ! Physicians tell us that there is nothing 
more beneficial than horseback riding, but they didn't 
mean three hundred miles in four days, Avith the cb.ances 
of being chased by Indians. 

The hardest ride I ever made in m^^ fifteen years in the 
saddle was a forty-two-mile gallop from Six Mile Grove, 
in Iowa, to Council Bluffs, and made under a terrible 
nervous strain. The wife of my nearest neighbor, while 



IJU \YIIEX THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWER. 

feeding a cane mill, caught her riglit arm in the machinery 
and crushed it above the elboAV before they could stop the 
machine. I was present Avhen the sickening accident oc- 
curred. Mounting the fleetest horse in my friend's stable, a 
mustang, I soon reached the divide along which led tlie old 
]Mormon trail to Council Bluffs. This trail was the prin- 
cipal road traveled by the Mormons across Iowa on their 
exodus from Xauvoo, Illinois, to Salt Lake City. The 
horse seemed to realize what had occurred, and for the 
first twenty miles needed no urging, but on the last stretch 
I often applied the spurs and whip. As a guide to those 
who for years afterward followed the trail, the ^Mormons 
sowed sunflower seeds along it, and the Mormon trail ever 
after was marked by tali sunflowers. The wind would whirl 
them over the road, and I was constantly dodging them, 
and occasional 1}^ I would get a swipe, but I made the 
forty-two miles in two and three-quarter hours, but it 
was the last trij) that horse ever made. The exertion was 
too much for him, and I left liim in Council Bluffs to die. 
Fortunately, the doctor Avas at home, and fifteen minutes 
after my arrival we were going back over the trail with a 
span of horses that for fleetness would have been the 
envy of any horseman. 

While I was attending a meeting of the Masonic lodge 
of which I was a meniber, at the little frontier town of 
Dunlap, Iowa, we Avere called to defend the town from a 
tlireatened attack from tlie Omaha tribe of Indians. The 
Indians had been camped for a cou])le of Aveeks by tlie 
Boyer River, about a mile from town. The chief >\as 
Yellow Smoke, lie was a great gambler, and a suc- 
cessful oup at that. He often visited the saloons of 
the town for a game of cards and to see what show there 
was to get his hands on some firewater. YelloAV Smoke, 



UP AGAINST Tin: KEl) MAX. 



G3 



unfortunately, sat down one night in a game witli some 
toughs, who purposely got him drunk to rob him. They 
stole his money and an elegant fur robe, and in the melee 
Yellow {Smoke was killed. The toughs Hed the town. As 
soon as the tribe heard of Yellow Smoke's death thev came 



5# 

A 




k'^ad^S^' 




The Original American. 

for the body and demanded the men who kilh^l him. The 
bod3^ they took away and buried, and sent word to the 
town authorities that they wanted the men who had killeil 
their chief. There were four hundred bucks in the Indian 
camp, armed to t]w t'M^li, and as Dunla]) liad oid> about 



64 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

five hundred inhabitants all told, things began to look a 
little dubious. The authorities sent back word, which was 
the truth, that the men who killed Yellow Smoke were not 
residents of the place and had fled from the town. The 
Indians wouldn't believe it and demanded the men 
at once or thev would come after them. We all knew 
what the result of that expedition would be. A committee, 
of which I was a member, from the lodge, visited the 
Indian camp to try and appease them and assure them 
that the men had left. At the suggestion of one of the 
members, we dressed in our Masonic regalia. What a 
fortunate suggestion! To the astonishment of all of us, 
the Indians on our approach greeted us with Masonic signs 
and assured us they would believe what we told them. 
Our statement proved satisfactory. The Indians having 
obtained Masonic signs in some unaccountable manner, 
undoubtedly saved Dunlap from being wiped off the map ; 
that is, it looked that way. But there is one thing certain ; 
from what I knew of the caliber of Dunlap citizens and 
the out-of-town members of the lodge who were present 
at that particular time, the Omaha tribe of Indians would 
have been somewhat reduced before the wiping-out i)rocess 
was completed. 



THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. 



65 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. 

In tbe scliooldays of m\ boyhood I learned of the Great 
American Desert, but little did I think then that I would 
ever experience its discomforts. It re<iuired courai>e almost 
beyond the human frame to cover the trail to Denver and 
Santa Fe. Toiling alono- months at a time, urging? slow- 
moving ox teams through the hot, blinding sandstorms by 
day and guarding your all from the Indians by night 
Avas enough to dethrone one's reason. I have seen strong 
men, who had endured many a hardship, crying like chil- 
dren at the trials around and before tlieni. Nature, not 
satisfied with attiicting us with the real, would often mock 
us with the unreal. Man and beast perishing from thirst 
would see before them the mirage of some shady stream, 
seemingly a short distance away. The dund) brut-s, ig- 
norant of the deception, would bolt toward the phantom, 
often following it to their death. Beautiful cities would 
appear above the horizon as if to lure us on, then, like the 
hopes of this life, soon faded away. 1 have often heard 
of the sufferings of the soldiers on the plains, but their life 
was clover to that of the government trams, and still 
the hardships of the government trains, composed of 
men, was of but little moment to that of the immigrants 
with their women and children. They wiM-e the unpro- 
tected on(^s who invited the attack of the Indians. 



66 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD \YA8 IN FLOWER. 



The United States Government and those Avho to-dav 
are enjovino the benefits of the plains and the Rockies, 
owe a debt to tlie immigrants of the sixties which thev can 
never repay. On those lono-, weary tu«s from Omaha to 
Denver it was a great relief, at least to me, when the 




Omaha. 

Rockies came in sight. Notwithstanding when first seen 
they were over a hnndred miles away, it was a satisfaction 
to know that your goal was stationary and always in view, 
and ere long your journey would be at an end, although at 
times, after days of travel, Pike's l*eak and its companions 
seemed to be as far aAvay as when first sighted. 

There was nothing slow about building railroads over the 
plains; if they didn't build several miles between meals 



THE PLAINS AM) THE UOCKIE.S. 67 

the}' considered it poor progress. For Inindreds of miles 
there were neither cuts nor fills. The surveyors would go 
ahead and stake out a strip the required width, furrows 
alonii' each side of the stakes Avere plowed, ties would be 
laid between the furrowed strip, and rails spiked down, 
and the construction cars run thereon. At the time the 
Pacific Railroad bills were before Congress there were 
opponents to the bills, of course, as there is to everything. 
If a balloon came sailing over some communities, dropping 
twenty-dollar gold pieces, there are people Avho would try 
to shoot the aeronaut for his carelessness. According to 
the Cougressionul Globe, the discussion over the Pacific 
Railroad bills showed what poor prophets we mortals be. 
Every speaker who opposed the bills dwelt long and 
earnestly on what the Indians would do. They claimed 
that on account of the Indians the road could not be built, 
unless under the protection of troops, and after the road 
was constructed the Indians would tear up the track unless 
it was guarded the whole length. AVhat a godsend it is 
that there are people who cannot be persuaded by scare- 
crows. If not, America would still be a wilderness! 

While the Pacific railroads v/ere under construction the 
only thing the Indians did was to ride along the ridges at 
a safe distance, half scared to death in fear of the iron 
horse; and after the road was built these ferocious Indians, 
who were going to eat the road up, ties, rails and rolling 
stock, seeing the white man riding along in a cushioned 
seat smoking his cigar, commenced to make inquiries if 
they couldn't also ride. Instead of tearing up the track 
they became an infernal nuisance, pestering the govern- 
ment and railroad agents for free rides. There was hardly 
a train on the road without having one or two fiat cars 
occupied by a lot of lazy, dirty Indians riding along at 



68 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLO\yER. 

the Government's expense. A certain train crew gave that 
practice its quietus. They started out of North Platte for 
Omaha with the usual Indian delegation. Riding on flat 
cars is ticklish business, as there is nothing to hold on 
to. The engineer said as he started out that you would 
find a string of Indians lying along the side of the track 
or he Avould ditch the train. He didn't ditch the train, 
but he did the Indians. While rounding curves he pulled 
the throttle wide open, and at every curve an Indian or 
two would roll off. The Indians were on their bellies, 
sliding over the car and yelling for dear life, but before 
the engineer let up he had dumped the whole bunch. 

What a God-forsaken country was western Kansas and 
Nebraska prior to the eighties. We often hear the expres- 
sion ''land poor," but I never realized what it meant until 
I "bullwhacked" over the sandy desert from Omaha to 
Denver. They tell a story of a land transaction in west- 
ern Nebraska which will give the reader an amusing il- 
lustration of "land poor.'' On the construction of the 
Union Pacific Railroad immigrants came iDOuring into Ne- 
braska on the strength of the alluring literature issued 
by that company. If the "press agent" of the Union Pacific 
didn't get a good salary, he certainly deserved it. The 
fellow was lucky to escape with his life from disappointed 
immigrants. The land transaction I refer to was as fol- 
lows : among others, a man from Illinois came to Nebraska 
with his family to locate on government land, but was un- 
able to find any which suited him. He was referred to a 
man who was "land poor." The Sucker had no money 
he could spare, but he had an extra span of mules and of- 
fered them to the Nebraskan for two hundred acres, 
and the offer was accepted. The necessary papers in the 
transaction Avere draAvn up. A few days afterward as the 



THE TLAIXS AND THE IKK'KIES. 



69 



immigTant was (\\aininiiin the papers he discovered that 
besides tlie two liiiiidred acres, tlie ^'poor hiiuV man had 
slipiHHl ill two hundred acres more. 

AMiile 1 was holdinj» down the chair of the chief execu- 
tive office of the city of Woodbine, the great strike at Lead- 




Denver and the Ever Snow-capped Rockies. 

viUe, Colorado, had bcn^n made on Fryer's IHll, and I and 
one of the soli<l citizens of tlie town thon^lit w(^ would take 
a run out tluM-e and look the situation over. Tlu^ Tnion 
Pacific IJailroad had been built, and I found the trip from 
Omaha to Denver somewhat different than I did years 
before, when I was associated with Mr. Rosier, a j^overn- 
ment contractor. I'Ihmu^ is a bi" dilTerencc Iu^wchmi cross 



< WHEN THE WILDWOUD WAS IX FLOWER. 

iu«i the hot sauds of the desert in a railroad train and fol- 
lowing a slow-moving ox team, and at night a berth in a 
sleeping-ear is much more preferable to lying under a 
wagon with a gun as a bedfellow, Avith one eye open trying 
to figure out whether that object you thought you saw was 
simply the waving of the grass or some sneaking Indian. 
I thought I had seen a frontier town when I struck Boone. 
But Boone Avas not in the same class with Leadville. 

AAliat a restless race is the xVmerican ! In my life on the 
plains I saw railroads projected and built to isolated places 
over dreary wastes, yet the cars were crowded with Ameri- 
cans, many of whom for the life of them couldn't tell 
Avliere they Avere going or Avhat for. If they AA'ould build a 
railroad to the infernal regions, the cars AAOuld no doubt 
be full of Americans, taking their chances on ^'beating the 
devil around the bush." 

The Denver and Bio Grande Bailroad had reached Lead- 
ville, and on the morning of the third day Ave arriA^ed. 
Leadville is situated on Avhat Avas once knoAvn as Cali- 
fornia Gulch, one of the richest placer mining deposits in 
the Avorld. Little did the old miners knoAv as they Avashed 
the gold from the sand in California Gulch that the hills 
Avhich looked down upon them contained as rich ore as the 
Bockies possessed. They tell the story, and seem Avilling 
to swear to it, how the rich mineral deposits of Leadville 
Avere unearthed. Miners are constantly being grub-staked 
to seek new ^discoveries. A poor miner by the name of 
Fryer and a companion Avere grub-staked and started off 
from California (iulch for the ]\Iosquito Bange. Among 
other things they took along Avas a jug of Avhiskey. They 
liad gone but a short distance Avhen they concluded they 
would stop and sample the AvhiskcA^ to see if it Avas Avorth 
carrying. The result Avas th(w never left the spot until 



THE PLAINS AND THE KOCKIES. 



71 



the whiskey was consumed. The whiskey <^()U(\ tliey 
coiildu't stH,^ any object in going farther, so tlu^v proposed 
to dig a hole in Mother Earth right then and tliere, witli 
the result that they exposi^l tlie carljoiiatcs that made 




Fryer's HiU in the Long Ago. 



Fryer's Hill at Leadville known the world over as one of 
the richest mining strikes. 

AVliile we were in Leadville we attendi^l a political meet- 
ing and saw a candidate swing a crowd by a trick 1 never 
saw before nor expect to see again. The miners' vote was all- 
important, and as the I.cnidville district went, so went the 



^Z WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWER. 

State. The opposinu: candidate had been there a fortnight 
before and it seemed to be the opinion that he had corraled 
the mining vote. It was reported that the candidate who 
I heard, said, as he left Denver, that he had a sure scheme 
to win the miners' vote if he were given the opportunity 
to work it, and it seemed he had, but no one would have 
believed it a winner if he had known what it was before- 
hand. The miners never did take much stock in politics, 
so the candidate's reception was rather a chilly one. The 
fellow stood six feet in his stockings and was built in 
proportion ; was a good speaker, told some funny stories, 
and altogether made a very convincing speech. But one 
could see that the miners were not over-enthusiastic. After 
he finished he asked if anybody wanted to ask any ques- 
tions. Some ^'butter-in,'' fresh from the East, arose to 
ask a question, and the candidate requested him to come 
on to the platform. The fellow obeyed and propounded 
a simple question. The words had no sooner left his mouth 
than the candidate, who had walked over to where he was, 
hit the fellow a blow in the face, knocking him head over 
heels off the platform. We all looked on in utter amaze- 
ment. There was a dead silence, broken by the candidate 
walking to the foot-lights and smilingly inquiring if there 
was anybody else who wished to ask any questions. In a 
moment the miners were on their feet, cheering like mad 
and yelling at the top of their voices : ^'You are the kind 
of a man we want.-' They rushed on to the platform, 
boosted the fellow on to their shoulders and paraded all 
over town Avith him. He won the miners' vote. 

A daily sight and a very amusing one was* the arrival 
and departure of the jack trains to and from the mines on 
the mountains. They brought ore do^^'n, and everything 
used in the mines above they packed back. The loads 



TlIK I'LAINS AM) THE ROCKIES. 73 

thev carried np the iiioniitainsMde were simply nstonish- 
iii"-. Tliev were very small animals and secMuiniilv docile. 
They had no harness on them of any kind, except a wooden 
piece, like a saw-buck, oirded to their backs. To tlu^ saw- 




The Little Pittsburg in the Good Old Days. 

bucks the loads were attached. A train consisting- of seven- 
teen jacks was loaded one day in front of the hotel where 
I was stoppino-; two were loaded each with a barrel of 
kerosene and the others Avith IG-foot planks. The kero- 
sene barrels Avere tied on the saw-bucks and were as large 
as the jack. A plank was fastened on each side of the 



74 WHEN THE Wn.DW()OI) WAS IX FLOWER. 

jacks, extending' four feet in front and about six behind. 
We watched them with a glass as they held to the mountain 
trail. A jack train is absolutely necessary to the mines 
on the steep isolated mountains. All the jacks ask in 
return is a place to roll over and permission to emit an 
occasional bray. Not much recompense for their services ! 
There is no more faithful animal to man than the horse 
species, yet how cruelly they are often treated. There 
is no more philanthropic work than to aid and assist those 
societies in the great cities which have for their aim the 
protection of those toiling dumb brutes, who cannot ex- 
press their wants, and who one often sees fall by the way- 
side through the cruelty and neglect of their masters. 



THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 75 



CHAPTER X. 

THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 

Becoming tired of music and profanity, we g^ladlj ac- 
cepted the invitation of an old stockman Ave happened to 
meet to visit his ranch in Wyomino- for a hunt amonji: the 
foothills for caribou. How good it seemed to be in the 
woods again and away from that money-crazy crowd at 
California Gulch. Will the time ever come when there 
will be some other aim in life than hunting gold? It is 
an honest endeavor in the daylight fair to extract the raw 
material from Mother Earth, but often through ways which 
are dark do we extract the finished product from our fel- 
low man. I was glad that my friend offered me the oppor- 
tunity to hunt for something else than veins and fissures 
and hear something else than ^^a mill run'^ and so many 
"ounces to the ton.'' I was glad to get away from trying 
to solve the crooks and turns of the two-legged animal, 
and study the habits of the four-legged one. 

In the preceding chapters the author has endeavored 
to so relate his experiences on the frontier that the reader 
would find something in this book of a pleasant nature, 
but the life he led and its culmination was more of a 
tragedy than a comedy. While blazing the way, the nuuiy 
ordeals through which I struggled and the sacrifices I was 
compelled to make better fitted me for the life that foJ- 



7G WHE^ THE WILDWOUD WA« IN FLOWER. 

lowed, and I attribute my success when I ai»ain returned to 
the Empire 8tate to my experience on the plains. In order 
to fully appreciate the comforts of this existence, one 
should have experienced the life of the frontier. No one 
is competent to decide what is best for mankind without 
having first communed Avith Nature. Many of the great 
men of ancient times and those Presidents of our country 
to whom we look as examples, lived in the open. 

It was a sorry day for me, while I was a stockman, that I 
wrote an article and had it published stating the truth con- 
cerning the beef combination. I regretted more than once 
that I wrote the article, but who is there that hasn't writ- 
ten something he regrets? The only man I ever heard of 
who had no regrets for what he had ever written lived in 
New Hampshire. He happened to make the remark that 
he had never written anything he regretted. They imme- 
diately proposed to run him for governor, but upon inves- 
tigation they ascertained that he couldn't write. 

I was a marked man from the time I wrote that article. 
To my surprise, the railroads took up the cudgel on behalf 
of the Beef Trust; Avhile other shippers had no difficulty 
getting cars to ship their stock in, I always seemed to have 
trouble. They received rebates, while I got what the his- 
torical little pig did who neither went to market, sta^^ed at 
home, had the choice of the menu card, nor tweaked at the 
barn door. If Charles K. Skinner, the agent of the North- 
Avestern at that time at Woodbine, Iowa, or John B. Ander- 
son, the agent of the Chicago, :Milwaukee and St. Paul at 
Portsmouth, both good friends of mine, are aliA^e, they could 
tell of many orders they received concerning me, that they 
found a Avay not to execute. After I got started Avith my 
stock I Avas often hampered along the line. I aa^s once side- 
tracked for four hours at Cedar Kapids on the Northwest- 



THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 



77 



ern in a sleet storm imder the pretense tliat there was some- 
thing broken on one of my cars, but the yardmaster, with 
whom I Avas well acquainted, told me there was nothing 
the matter. On my arrival in diicago I was fortunate 
enough to lind President Keep at the company's otticc*, and 




My Last Bunch of Stock. 



I appealed to him, and, as a New Yorker, lie promiscMl me 
he would look into my case. As the same bill of fare con- 
tinued to be handed to me, I infer all I got was a "look-in." 
Before I threw up the sponge, however, I got one shot 
at the crowd by being instrumental in sending an attache 
of the Union Stock Yards to Joliet, and stopping, at least 



<8 WHEN THE WILDWOOD \YA.S IX FLOWER. 

temporarily, a practice whicli was simply murder. A 
disease that is ahvavs prevalent among swine, and which 
has lost millions of dollars to the stock feeder, is known as 
hog cholera. Whole droves have been swept away by that 
dreaded disease. Carloads of infected hogs have been 
shipped to the Union Stock Yards, Chicago, through the 
ignorance of farmers and carelessness of shippers, and are 
now, for aught I know, I ha^e seen cars of hogs start from 
western Iowa with pronounced cases of cholera, with hogs 
dying all the wa^' in, and on their arrival at Chicago, the 
dead were sold to local butchers to be tried into lard, and 
those able to walk over the scales into the great packing- 
houses were converted into ^^sugar-cured hams" and pickled 
pork. Every shipper of swine product knows the truth of 
what I state, and every inspector in the yards and packer 
knows that diseased meat has been handed out to the con- 
sumer. 

I would much prefer to draw the veil over man's in- 
humanity to man, but I consider the duty I owe as an 
American to relate my experiences. Picture to yourself 
the home of the cattle raiser on the great prairies of the 
West, Avho, with his little family, is battling, like all of 
us, for an existence. I can tell the storv no better than to 
follow the little calf who first saw the light of day on a 
storm-swept prairie, until he, as a three-year-old, fattened 
for the market, entered one of the great abattoirs in the 
cit3^ on the shore of Lake Michigan. The tirst six months 
of its life it ran b}- its mother's side. The following spring 
it entered the one-year-old grade, and rouglunl it, summer 
and Avinter, until it became a two-year-old past, and entered 
the feed-yard to be fattened, a corn-fed steer for the mar- 
ket. During those long years corn was planted and gath- 



THE TAiSSlNG OF THE STOCKMAN. 79 

ered by willing liauds in the Lope that in the end the re- 
ward Avould come, but, alas, what a sacrifice! 

I was a shipper of live stock to Chicago before, during 
and after the fornialion of the Beef Trust. Prior to its 




Union Stock Yards, Chicago. 

formation, buyers from Pittsburg, P>ut'falo, l^hila«leli)hia 
and New York Avere in the yards bidding for our stock, and 
the prices we obtained gave us some reward for our labor. 
I will long remember the morning when I arrived at the 
yards with a consignment of stock and was informed by 
my commissioner, ITarb^v Oi-een, tliat the day of a ])r()tit to 



80 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWEU. 

the stockman was at au end. He informed me of the form- 
ing of the Beef Trust and that competition was no more. 
An arbitrary price succeeded "supply and demand.^' The 
combination fixed the price. They l^new what it cost to 
fatten a steer, and the bid was just enough to encourage 
you to go back and make another try. If you didn't like the 
price of the day, you had the priyilege of paying yardage — 
a ratlier expensiye undertaking. 

If you thought you Ayere being robbed, which you were, 
you could reload and ship farther East, but you would 
run against the same combination with yirtually the same 
bid. There was nothing for you to do but to stand and 
deliyer, and return to your family and try to comfort those 
who had toiled Ayith you for three long years to com^ert that 
little calf into a fattened steer, and tell the same sad story 
that other stockmen carried to their isolated homes. 

The Beef Trust Ayas not satisfied Ayith controlling^ the 
purchasing end, but after the stock Ay as slaughtered and 
passed through the packing-houses, it Ayas shipped to the 
cold-storage houses of the East, and put on the block Ayith 
an arbitrary price to the consumer. That Ayas the condi- 
tion tlien, and through the non-action of the law-enforcing 
poAyer it prcA^ails to-day. An indiyidual or corporation 
Ayho controls tlie price at both the purchasing and dis- 
tributing end of a product exacts all the profit — it 
is simply a question of how mucli do you Ayant ere 
you quit, and hunmn nature's Aynnts are ncA'er satis- 
fied. The greed of that giH^at combination deprived the 
little children of the stock raiser of education and the nec- 
essaries of life — their motliers, through toil and depriA^a- 
tion, Ayere driATu to the asylum, and their fathers to their 
graATs Ayith broken hearts, and as T, who they dnwe out 



THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 81 

of business, see the offsprin^c: of the Armours, Morrises 
and their kind, and the beneficiaries of like combinations, 
flauntino: their predatory wealth, it is easy for me to un- 
derstand why there is unrest throughout the domain of 
this great Republic. 



KEMINISCENCES OF THE AUTHOR'S 
VACATION DAYS. 



LOST IN THE MAINE WOODS. 

Twice in mv life I experienced the feeling of being lost, 
once on tlie prairies of Nebraska, and the second time in 
the woods of Maine. To one avIio has not been lost, words 
fail me to describe the sensation. One feels as if he were 
going insane. A few years ago, in the evening of a late Sep- 
tember day, as the man Ayho stands with the megaphone on 
the marble staircase in the main waiting-room of the Orand 
Central Depot, New York, was calling, ^'Boston express, 
stopping at Springfield and Worcester only, now ready on 
track No. 0,'' the author — with two students, one studying 
for the ministry — was taking his departure for a two- 
weeks' hunting trip in tlie ^Faine woods. The night was 
passed going feet first across three States of the I^nion, 
dreaming of bygone days on the Rangeleys and along the 
Allagash. 

The rising sun met us at Old Orchard. Within a stone's 
throw of the train long lines of white breakers were roll- 
ing in from the blue ocean, foaming on the crest as they 
break and smoothly glide oyer the crescent-shaped sands 
of the grandest bathing beach in all this land. Between 
Portland and Newport — not the Newport of the "upper 
ten," but that of a better Auierican, a Newport of the 

85 



86 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WA« IN FLOWER. 




Sportsman's Show, Madison Square Garden. 

^4ower five" — a white-coated gentleman from Africa is 
passing- tlirongh the train announcing: "Breakfast is now 
ready in the dining-car/' always a welcome summons to 



LOST IN THE :siaim: woods. 87 

the one who loiters on tlie liiiinoroiis and snnny side of 
life, a stranger to indigestion and its kind. 

The golden orb of day was gradnally sinking into the 
forest of the Pine Tree State as we were jjreparing to 
enjoy the hospitality of Moosehead Inn, a well-kept hos- 
telry on high ground at the foot of and overlooking the 
nnsalted sea of Elaine, old ^loosehead. Here two guides 
I had engaged met us. On one of my canoe trips down 
the Allagash I saw so mueli game on Churchill Lake that 
I took the boys to that locality. We arrived at Churchill 
October 2d. The boys were not much as hunters, and 
the guides were too lazy to hunt, so I seemed to be the 
committee on venison. Four days had gone by and no juicy 
venison in the frying-pan, so I thought I Avould strike out 
alone. I had hunted the country north of Chamberlain 
Lake over pretty well and thought I knew it as a\(*11 as 1 
did Manhattan Island. Eight here I Avould state, don't 
go into the North Woods without a guide or a compass — 
better take both. 

My divinity student friend had presented all hands Avilli 
a pocket edition of the Bible, and it was a godsend to me 
that I had it in my pocket. When I left camp I jokingly 
told the boys that I Avould bring back the tenderloin of a 
deer if I was gone a week, and before I got back to camp a 
week had nearly passed. 

Game seemed ver3^ scarce. There is nothing surprising 
about that. I saw the buttalo, antelope and prairie chicken 
disappear from the plains before advancing civilization, 
and for the same reason the caribou left Maine never to 
return, and naturalh^ the moose and deer will follow. The 
killing of game is justitiable when for the immediate sus- 
tenance of man, but it never should have been allowed for 
traffic nor ornamentation. 



88 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

Being- anxious to secure a deer, I took the precaution to 
take a sleeping-bao- and some jirub to last me in case I saw 
fit to stay out all night. I started off in a southwesterly 
direction, crossing Thoroughfare Brook, and it was late in 
the afternoon when I saw my first deer. He was in easy 
range, but in trying to get a little closer I scared him, and 
liis white tail bobbing among the brush Avas the last I 
saw of him. I had about decided to give up the hunt and 
return. While standing there thinking what I Avould do, 
I heard a noise and, looking around, I saw not over one 
hundred yards away a fine buck. He was very accommo- 
dating, as he stood still until I fired. He dropped like a 
log and stayed there. The afternoon was fast passing 
away, so I hastily cut out the tenderloin, severed the hind 
quarters and started with my load for camp. 

I thought I knew the direction and believed I could 
make the lake before dark. If I had gone toward the lake 
I no doubt would have made it, but unfortunately I had 
gone in another direction. As darkness came on I began 
to realize that I was lost, as nothing looked familiar. 
There was nothing to do but to try and find my way out. 
Of course I could not sleep; that was out of the question. 
In my experience on the plains, where I had to travel often 
at night, I became familiar with the location of what we 
call the ''Great Dipper'' and the North Star, and I could 
figure out not only a direction, but the time of night to a 
nicety. I knew if I traveled south I would at least strike 
the tramway, between Eagle and Chamberlain Lakes. One 
could follow a creek, knoAving it would eventually lead to 
a lake, but I would not be any better off following the 
winding shore of a possibly uninhabited lake. Never put 
any faith in the sun as a guide in the woods. There are 
only two occasions Avhen you can bank on the sun — 



LOST IN THK MAINE WOODS. 



^ose seven stars .ere looking down upon me fro,n the 
e loca'on. What a wonderland of research the great 

"dla "niverse presents, and what an insigmfieant spe. K 
n he .^alaxv this earth nn,st be! And the mdiv.dual 

iJ^m x^aliz; that he, too, is of little moment, "as he struts 

nnd frets his hour on the stage" of life. 

From open spaces in the woods I got my beanngs a. 

traveled in a southerly direction At -te^ls cUu^-jH. - 
nioht I fired three shots in rapid succession, the hunters 
«; o help. HOW anxiously I listened for the res.^se 
u;t never came! I traveled almost all ^^ -f^:^_^\^ 
light opened .ith me still lost m the .voods, ,et I Knew if 
I Continued south I .vould be between Eagle and Cbambei 
an Lakes and should certainly strike the tramway tha^ 
connects the two. I did not dare to strike out to an^ 
Xt during the day, as it seems to be a fact that « P-.ii 
traveling without any landmarks travels in ^ oiuK- 
Ut th: day sla^ping, smoking, taking an o-asio-l 1 
at a small flask of brandy, cursing my luck, and lead.u,, 

""'wliile eating my noonday meal at the foot of a mountain, 
I saw far up on the mountainside a U.lge -e "^^ J ;- 
I decided to blaze my ^vay to it and see if 1 could re o 
Hi : some lake or mountain; but after eljmb.ug o^•er ha 
a mile I realized that I was becoming exhausted w h 
effort and thought it best to retra.e my steps to 'I 

left mv traps, and save my strength in my endeaxoi to 



90 WHEN THE WILDWOOl) WAS IX FLOWER. 

reach the tramway. I calculated that another night's 
tramp would bring me to the tramway, and my calcula- 
tions came near being true. During the two nights I saw 
plenty of game, but I gave them due notice that I would 
let them severely alone if they would me, and there was 
no argument on that point. When at the start I found I 
was lost, I threw away the hind quarters of the deer, but 
retained the tenderloin. My diet consisted of tenderloin 
of buck, coffee, pilot crackers, tobacco, brandy, and the 
Bible. Some fellow who has never ''been there" no doubt 
thinks it is all bosh to get lost in the woods, and if he had 
been in my boots, or moccasins, rather, he Avould have 
waltzed right out of the situation; but the fact is that 
when one finds himself lost, his nerve, judgment and com- 
mon sense are also lost. 

As I tramped along through bogs and jungle, notwith- 
standing I was all unstrung, I could not help but smile at 
the novelty of the situation. During the second night, as 
I was going down into a valley, I saw, in the direction I 
was going, two eyes, no doubt attracted by my footsteps. 
They Avere so near the ground I was sure it Avas a bear. 
I stopped. Under usual conditions it would have been of 
little concern, but when a fellow is up in the air with buck 
fewer, heart failure, and seA^eral other imaginary com- 
plaints, anything startles him. I coughed, blew my nose 
and made a half-dozen other noises to try and scare the 
devil away, but those two eyes were still riA^eted on me. 
I brought my .30-.30 to my shoulder, shot into the air, 
and the felloAV Avith the goo-goo eyes disappeared. I was 
mighty glad Avhen I passed the territory that Mr. Bruin 
had just occupied. 

Christian Scientists tell us that all our ailments are 
imaginary. Some question that, but let one traverse the 



LOJST IN Tin: MAINE WOODS. 



91 



woods by moonliiilil alone and he will certainly ad- 
mit that the imagination is all powerful. In my 
travels those two ni<»hts I would have taken my oath that 
I saw every animal wliieh inhabits the different zones of 




Lost in the Maine Woods 



the earth. The changing shades caused by the moonlight 
made it seem as if I were wandering through some 
zoological garden. The snort of a deer, that was hitherto 
always a welcome sound, signifying that game was near, 
so startled me that I jumped six feet, more or less, into 
the air. 



92 WHEN THE \YILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

About midnight a 3'oung hurricane sprang up, blowing 
from ''sou '-sou' west." The sweet music of the forest and 
streams of the Pine Tree State has lulled me to sleep manj 
times, but there was nothing sweet in my surroundings 
at that particular time. An old tree, tired of the struggle, 
had fallen over on his next-door neighbor, and as the howl- 
ing wind would sway the old trunk back and forth on his 
friend's '4iabeas corpus," there emanated therefrom such 
a nerve-racking plaint that it started me on the run, and 
I never stopped until I was out of sound of that unearthly 
grind. Another night would have certainly seen my finish. 

At the dawning of the second day, while I was getting 
my breakfast, I thought I could detect a rumbling sound. 
It flashed across me that it was the tramwaX', and it proved 
so to be. I have attended the opera and listened to the 
music of the masters, and have heard the best bands of this 
and other countries playing along Broadway, but the 
sweetest music I ever heard in my life was the rumbling, 
on that cool October morning, of the traniAvay between 
Eagle and Chamberlain Lakes in the State of Maine. 



TAKEN FOR A GAME WARDEN. 93 



II. 
TAKEN FOR A GAME WARDEN. 

Of all my canoe trips over the water-courses of this coun- 
try, and I have taken a good many, the most disappointing, 
disagreeable and annoying was the second time I went 
down the East Branch of the Penobscot River. There were 
a whole lot of my enthusiastic New York friends going to 
take tlie trip, but as is generally the case, when the time 
came to step up to tlie purser's office, they dropped ont one 
by one, leaving me like the historical boy ^'on the burning 
deck." The seven guides I had engaged had to be reduced 
to one, and he a scrub I picked up at Northeast Carry. He 
was not much of a canoeman, and the canoe we had was 
"hogged, ■' narrow, and the bottom — from many punctures 
— looked like a small-pox patient just out of a hospital. 

The first day we made the run from Northeast Carry to 
the hotel at Chesuncook. The next night we camped at 
the foot of Telos Lake, near a sporting camp. From Telos 
to Second Lake includes the canal, Webster Lake and 
Webster Stream. Webster Lake is the only portion easy 
to canoe. The canal and Webster Stream are very dan- 
gerous to navigate, especially the latter. Witli the old 
tub we had I did not care to risk it, so we hired Mr. 
Roberts, of the Telos Lake sporting camps, to tote us from 
Telos to Second Lake, a distance^ of fourteen miU^s. With 
the exception of Ripogenus (\u'ry, on the ^Vest Branch, 
the road between Telos and Second Lake has everv other 



94 \YHEN THE W1LD\Y00D WAS IN FLOWER. 

road in the State beaten to a standstill. Roberts rode all 
the way, and if ever a man earned his money, he did. His 
head would be up among the branches of the trees, and the 
next moment he would be in the ^'trough of the sea." The 
changing angles of the wagon reminded me of the acrobat 
on the stage. The feet of the off horse would be on a level 
with the back of his mate, and then again the mate \vould 
be looking down on his pal. Roberts' harness must have 
been made of rubber. The play of the canoe as Roberts 
hung on to his load clipped off pieces of his skin, and as he 
stripped where we camped on Second Lake, his sides were 
a counterpart to the patches on the bottom of the canoe. 

As we neared the dam at Grand Lake, we struck a log- 
drive. If I had knoAvn what I had to encounter between 
Grand Lake and Grindstone, I would have retraced my 
footsteps, if I might use the word. Being a man of sixty, 
my dress was not that of a "sport," but more like the com- 
mon garb of the everv-day man you will meet on the street. 
The log-drivers sized me up as a game warden, and nothing 
that the guide or I could say changed that opinion. 

Instead of their showing deference for what they inferred 
was a minion of the laAv, they "roasted" me unmercifully. 
If I happened to wander from my own fireside, I was ac- 
cused of trailing for venison. One fellow pulled the hind 
quarters of a deer from under some burlaps and dared me 
to arrest him. One log-driver said he was willing to swear 
that I was Commissioner Carleton. Word was telephoned 
down along the line: "A game warden is coming down the 
river — make it hot for him." 

At ^Monument Line they intended to wreck our outfit. 
The Maine log-driver is generally French. Fortunately, 
my guide understood the French language and overheard 
them discussinir their intentions. The uanir were not 



TAKKN FOR A (JAMK WAUHEN. 



95 



awai-e of tlie kind of a ''liaiii»iir' tli(\v wrre i)lannin.u- to 
attatk. If tlioy liad known tliat back in the sixties this 
^'uame warden" had been the niaA'or of a turbnlcMit littb^ 
towu uear the Missouri Kiver — had been th(^ superintend 
ent of a mine in the early days of Leadville, Colorado, and 




On the Waters of the East Branch. 



a plainsman in tlie lonii a.uo, they niii;ht not have been so 
eaj^er to cross swords with him. 

Anyhow, I saw somethiuii had to Ix^ done. At :Monunient 
Line was the usual lean-to and wan,i>an that you find 
when a log-drive is on. Just before sundown, wliib* tlie 
log-drivers wen^ finishing their su])])ers, T took a walk over 
where three or four dozen of them were, and possildy dis- 



96 WHEN THE \YILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

cussIdjt: my future. I informed them that the impression 
that had gone forth that I was a game warden was er- 
roneous, that I was a New York gentleman out of health 
making a canoe trip in an endeavor to regain the same. I 
understood they intended to wreck my outfit that night. 
I told them that in a fifteen years' experience on the plains 
of the West I had been up against a tougher lot of citizens 
than Maine log-drivers, that I was still alive and that I 
was perfectly able to protect myself and my outfit, and if 
any of them doubted my capabilities all they had to do 
was to try it on. Either my guide was lying to me or my 
speech had the desired effect, as that night and the next 
day, from Monument Line to Grindstone, were as unevent- 
ful as if there had not been a Maine log-driver within a 
thousand miles. Upon our arrival at Grindstone we had 
the only hearty laugh of the entire trip. It seems the night 
before, after I had delivered my "valedictory" to the log- 
drivers, the folloAving telephone message had gone over 
the wire : "A bad man from the West is coming down the 
river; give him a wide berth." 



HUNTING THE CAKir.OU. 



97 



III. 
HUNTING THE CARIBOU. 

There are many thinp^s one sees in books in connection 
with the habits of animals that the layman doubts, yet as 
a hunter for these many moons and covering a territory 
from New Brunswick to the Eocky :Mountains I am ready 
to believe 'most anythino-. One of the most amusing ex- 
periences I ever had occurred in New Brunswick, Canada, 
tw(Mity-tive years ago. A New York friend of mine was in- 
terested in a lumber camp located in that territory. He 
invited me and any of my friends to visit him during the 
hunting season. Taking a friend along, we arrived at the 
camp on the 10th of Novend)er. Caribou seemed to be 
the principal meat diet. 

The third day after our arrival, the young man who had 
come with me and I started off on a hunt for caribou. 
There was about four inches of snow on the ground. There 
is very little sport hunting ciiribou. In the first place, 
they travel in droves. Hunting caribou is like going into 
a pasture and shooting cows. The caribou is the most 
inquisitive animal of all the Avild game I ever hunted. If 
it sees a strange object it will never let up until it finds out 
what it is. A great many people are under the impression 
that the firing of a gun will start any wild animal on 
the jump ; that is not so. You can lay it down as a general 
rule that an animal will not run from yim until he gets 



98 ^YHEN THE ^yILI);yOOD WAS IX FLO^YER. 

liit or scents you. I liiiYe heard of animals standing per- 
fectly still and letting one slioot at them Uvo or three 
times. Speaking about scent, it is astonishing how far 
these animals can smell you. I know it to be a fact, 
while I was hunting in the Adirondacks some years ago, 
a herd of deer scented me a quarter of a mile. And I 
hadn't been eating any onions, either. HeaYcns! what a 
bouquet we must haYe! 

To return to my New Brunswick story, we had gone 
about a mile from camp when we came to a spring sur- 
rounded by caribou tracks. The tracks led away from the 
spring up the mountainside, and we decided to follow. 
The trail led OYer the top of the mountain and doAYn into 
the Yalley below. As we got to the top ayc saw a herd of 
about thirty caribou, coming in Indian file up the moun- 
tain. The AYind was blowing from the herd toward us. 
We turned and went back down the trail about one hun- 
dred yards, and waited until the caribou came in sight. 
They undoubtedly were heading for the spring. We got 
our guns ready. 

Near the top of the mountain the trail led around an 
immense boulder, and it was cur intention to tire as soon 
as a caribou showed his head around the rock. It was but 
a short time when the leader of the herd came in sight. 
My friend fired, and down went the caribou. It ^^'as my 
first successful hunt for caribou, and it surprised me to 
see another head coming around the boulder. I shot him. 
Then came a third, my friend put a bullet through his 
habeas corpus. Another head came in sight. 

The reason I am nearing the three-score and ten limit 
and happy, I attribute to the fact that I have not taken 
life too seriously and have cultivated a sense of humor. 
I took in the ludicrous side of the performance and began 



11UNT1N(J THE CARIBOU. 



99 



to laugh. My atlliction sjurad to iin- friend, aud every 
time we glanced toward the boulder and saw more caribou 
the harder we laughed. It was one of those cases where 
something strikes you as so ridiculous that you almost 




The Last Sleep of a Caribou. 



laugh yourself into a fit. AVe botli lauglied so hard we 
couldn't stand up, let alone shoot. :My friend began to 
choke and grow black in the face. I crawled over to where 
he was and commenc(Ml ixnmding him on the back. In 
the meantime the caribou kei)t coming in sight and stood 
there looking at us, no dcmbt wondering wliat kind of 



100 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 




In the Bad Old Winter Time. 

animals Ave were, and it secMued to me some of tliem actu- 
ally <>rinned. My friend nearly cliokinji' to death brought 
us -to our senses. We picked up our ouns and started down 
the trail for home to inform the camp where they could 



IIL\\T1X(; TiiE CAiaiU)U. 101 

find a supply of meat. As we stai't(\l (lown the trail the 
herd folloAved along. The^^ stopped for a moiiieut when 
the}^ came to our tracks, but on they came as far as the 
spriu^i:. From Avhat I afterward learned of the habits of 
the caribou, I am satisfied Avhile they were at the boulder 
T\ e could have slaughtered the whole herd. 

As regards the intelligence of animals, I saw a sight 
on Sourdnahunk Lake, Maine, in the winter of 1880, that 
if I had not seen it nobody could have made me believe 
tliat such a thing ever occurred. With a guide I was on 
a hunt on snowshoes. The night before three feet of snow 
had fallen. As we came in sight of the lake, we saw a 
lierd of caribou crossing it in single file. The leader Avould 
wallow belly-deep, making a track through tl:e snow, and 
when he tired would step to one side and let the next ani- 
mal take the lead, the first fellow lying down until the 
whole herd had passed and then bringing up in the rear. 
We watched tliem for over a mile, and almost as regular 
as clock-work we saw leader after leader fall to the rear. 
Tliey seemed to believe in the saying: ''Let the other 
fellow walk a while.'' 



102 WHEN THE WlLD\yOOD NYAS IN FLOWER. 



IV. 
CURING A ^^BUTTERFLY." 

Back in the eighties, one of my wealthiest clients lived 
on lower Fifth Avenue. I often dined at his home, and 
on many occasions described the healthful pleasure of 
canoeing over the waters of Maine. His only child was a 
daughter, a butterfly of fashion, who was fast breaking 
doAvn in the social whirl. At my suggestion she decided 
to make a canoe trip. At her father's solicitation I con- 
sented to take her along on my vacation. She made only 
one proviso, and that was she was not expected to dress 
^'like a fright." She unfortunately got it into her head 
that one could dress for a canoe trip the same as to spend 
the summer at Saratoga. 

She was nineteen when we made the trip. A lady of 
good common sense was her chaperon. Before I departed 
from the metropolis I gave the chaperon a general idea of 
what clothing, underpinning and topgear, would be nec- 
essary. On our arrival at Kineo I engaged three guides, 
and the night before our departure from Kineo I told the 
ladies that here we were to lay aside the dress appropriate 
along Broadway and don the sportsman attire, or words 
to that effect. To my surprise and disgust, the next morn- 
ing, my charge boarded the boat for Northeast Carry 
decked out with high-heel shoes, a tailor-made suit, a 
made-up countenance, with extensive plumes floating in 



103 

the gentle zephyrs, and surrounded with an atmosphere 
of heliotrope. 

Such a sight never crossed Northeast Carry before, nor 
since. It seems the chaperon had purchased the proper 
wearing apparel, but ^liss Butterfly refused to wear it. 
She did not seem to realize that we would be exposed to the 
elements. The aim of the chaperon and myself was to get 
possession of those shoes, the corsets that embraced that 
wasp waist, a box of cosmetics, and that flowery toi)-knot ; 
and, one by one, we succeeded. The first day was passed 
going down the West Branch 'midst sunshine and shadow, 
and nightfall found our tents set up in close proximity 
to the dining-room of the Hotel de Murphy, on Chesuncook 
Lake. The apparel of the Fifth Avenue belle was causing 
so much comment that I saw something had to be done, and 
at once. 

That night our tents were robbed; that is, before they 
were robbed I ascertained that they had a supply of ladies' 
moccasins on hand. The robbers took the French high-heel 
shoes. What could the poor girl do? Wear moccasins, of 
course. That was where we made our first score. The but- 
terfly of fashion rather mistrusted who the robbers were. 
As we crossed that gem of a lake, Ripogenus, we ran close 
to a large bull moose feeding along the shore. He simply 
glanced at the first and second canoes as they passed by, 
and continued feeding; but when the one hove in sight 
with Miss Butterfly and your humble servant, with those 
extensive white plumes dancing in the sunlight, it was too 
much for him, and he bolted for the woods. 

Anybody who has made the West Branch trip knows 
what Ripogenus Carry is. For the information of those 
Avho do not I would state that it is three miles long, and 



101 ^yiIE^' the wildwuod \yAS ix flower. 

the roughest road that is traveled in the State of Maine. 
It Avas a pretty long, rough walk, right off the reel, for a 
butterflj' of fashion, and she admitted she could nol haye 
made it in the high-heel shoes. She began to think the 
robbers did her an accommodation. On our arrival at Big 
Eddy, the end of the carry, she was so tired that a tent was 
immediately set up. She removed her dress and fell asleep. 
Like many wasp-waisted females she slept with her corsets 
on, fearing her compressed ribs might return to where 
nature first placed them. What a godsend it would be to 
female kind if it was a penitentiary offense to manufac- 
ture a corset ! 

The chaperon informed me that we had our chance to 
obtain the corsets. I peeked into the tent, and, sure enough, 
our opportunity had arrived. The patient was on a good 
solid operating table, was unconscious, and the foreign 
matter was plainly in view. Wln^ not perform the opera- 
tion? I acted as tiler while the chaperon crawled into the 
tent, unlaced the corsets, gently slipped them from around 
the patient and handed them to me. If we concealed them 
as we did the high-heel shoes I was afraid that by persua- 
sion, tears or through some other female accomplishment, 
^liss Butterfly would obtain them; so I loped over to 
Ripogenus Gorge, tore the corsets into pieces, and the 
fragments floated away on the waters of the West Branch. 
When the dear girl awoke it was not necessar}^, as they 
generally do when a patient regains consciousness from an 
operation, to tell her to "spit it out.'' She spit it out all 
right. In my life on the plains I often heard tlie Avar-whoop 
of the hostile Sioux^ dieyennes and other redskins, and the 
explosion in that tent was a vivid reminder of those try- 
ing- tillK^S. 



(TiiiNd A "r.rrrKKFLV 



105 




Miss BuUerily tis Slio is To-day. 



106 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER/ 

I told the chaperon to put it all on me. It took all the 
diplomacy at my command to prevent an open rupture 
then and there, and my charge returning to New York at 
once. The next morning as we started down the river, for 
the first time since her childhood days the clothes of this 
butterfly of fashion were supported from her shoulders 
instead of her waist. The hat and box of cosmetics still 
remained. Providence came to our rescue so far as the hat 
was concerned. A rainstorm put that in storage, a cap 
taking its place. Going down what is known as the "Horse- 
race," the chaperon purposely placed the box of cosmetics 
on the top of the load, and I, in shifting my setting-pole, 
accidentally — that is, I would use that word — ^Ivuocked 
the box overboard, and Miss Butterfly's stock of magnolia 
balm, bloom of youth, creams, paints, x)uffs and powders 
mingled with the waters of the Horserace, to be seen no 
more. It was lucky for me that going down those two miles 
of turbulent water, "sports" are warned to sit still for 
fear of upsetting the canoe, or I might have lost what Avas 
left of my ambrosial locks, and it was also my good fortune 
that the rush of the waters of the Horserace drowns the 
hunmn voice, but the look she gave me still lingers in my 
memory. 

Wliere Abol Stream enters the AYest Branch at the foot 
of Blount Katahdin, we established a permanent camp, 
where tliree weeks were spent hunting, fishing, canoeing, 
swimming and mountain climbing. There this pale, wil- 
lowy butterfly of fashion was transformed into a sun- 
browned, strenuous athlete. As I occasionally meet her 
to-day on the promenades of the great city, a mother with 
grown-up daughters — all dressed, not as butterflies of fash- 
ion, but as sensible women — she often tells me, amid laugh- 
ing reminiscences of our trip, that the turning point in 



(M UIN(J A ''UUTTEUFLY.-' 107 

her life for health and happiness was when she took the 
grandest canoe trip in the world— down the eighty miles 
of the West Branch of the Penobscot, from Moosehead 
Lake to Norcross. 



108 WHEN THE WILDWOOl) WAS IX FLOWER. 



THE OBLITERATION OF A ^TIRST IMPRESSION." 

My reception at Connors, New Brunswick, when I made 
niY first canoe trip down the Allai^ash, will forever linj>er 
in my gray matter. I made the trip with my brother-in- 
law, Dr. Hazelton. We had no guides. On account of 
doing all the work, we looked more like tramps than 
"sports." We reached Connors about 4 p.m. on a cer- 
tain Saturday and Ave decided to spend Sunday there. 

We "took out" just below the hotel. Leaving the canoe 
and dunnage on the shore, the doctor started for the hotel 
to make the necessary arrangements, and I for the tele- 
graph office to let our families know that we had safely 
breasted the wilds of the Allagash. While I was at the 
telegraph office, the doctor interviewed the hotel proprietor. 
From his questions and remarks, the doctor saw some- 
thing Avas the matter. At fi/st the proprietor said the 
hotel was full. He wanted to knoAv Avho was the guide — 
where our canoe was. He finally said that he might find 
a place for us. This conversation took place on the piazza 
of tlie hotel in the presence of many of the guests. The 
doctor asked him Avhat was the matter; before the land- 
lord could explain, I hoA^e in sight. I had three weeks' 
growth of beard. I did most of the cooking on the trip, 
and from my shirt collar to the tip end of my moccasins 
Avas a sample of every menu card since Ave left Northeast 



THE ODLITEUATION OF A 'TUIST IMl'KH^S^ION. 



109 



Carry. As the doctor saw mo coininii- toward the hotel with 
a jj^ait that showed that ''tired feeliiit*," and with a .ueiierally 
Bowery-bum appearance, he could see our chances of i>et- 
tinjj;- into that hotel fast fadinii; away. After further ar- 
gument, the landlord consented to show us a room in, the 
attic. 




It Tastes Better in Closed Time. 



The doctor had shaved that moi-ning, so his countenance 
would pass. I hunted up the barlx^r shop. I was some- 
what solicitous wlu^ther the bai-ber would undertake the 
job, so the first thing I did was to shove a dollar bill into 
the tonsorial artist's palm. During the progress of the 
shave I learned the reason whv th(^ landlord gave us the 



110 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLO^yER. 



cold shoulder. It seems he thought we were lumbermen. 
The barber told me some lumbermen stopped there some 
time before and left behind a jirolific stock of lice, and the 
house noAV drew the line on lumbermen. When I returned 
to the attic, I told the doctor the wherefore jof our recep- 
tion. We resohed then and there to show the landlord and 



m^ft^Fr 



/% 

-i ^ 



Chase's Carry. 



his guests that a canoeist Avhile running Chase's Carry, 
Twin Brook and Nigger Brook rapids is not expected to be 
decked out in a swallow-tailed coat and a stove-pipe hat. 
In our grips we had suits of clothes that would not be 
out of place along Fifth Avenue. Like the girl who was 
expecting her beau, we donned our best. The supper bell 
rang. The landlord, at the request of some of the guests, 



THE OlILITERATIOX OF A ''FIRST IMl'KESSION.'' Ill 

intended to side-track us into the kitchen. As we entered, 
the dining-room, the landlord nearly had a fit. Instead 
of "lousy lumbermen," his "guests Avere Broadway swells. 
We were shown seats at the right and left hand of the 
head of the table. We were the "star boarders'' from that 
time out. That night we camped in the bridal chamber 
instead of in the attic. The next day, at the invitation 
of the proprietor, we attended an excursion to Temiscouata 
Lake and were the lions of the occasion. We generously 
tipped all the help around the hotel, and when we departed 
on the train for Fort Kent the guests and the whole hotel 
force, from the boss to the bootblack, Avere at the depot to 
see us off. We thought the landlord never would get 
through apologizing for his action, and no doubt the sequel 
to our entrance into Connors smoothed the way for many 
a weary, unkempt canoeman who followed in our wake. 



112 WHEN THE WILD WOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



VI. 

LIFE AT A SPORTING CAMP. 

Were I to live as long as Methuselah, the delightful 
summer I passed at Nelsou McXaughton's camp on Schoo- 
dic Lake, Maine, would not fade from my memory. The 
camp consisted of a large building in which we took our 
meals and several smaller camps near by. We Avere lucky 
to obtain one of the small camps built of cedar logs, con- 
taining four rooms, one with a fireplace. From its portico 
Ave could look oA^er a beautiful lake into the jungle beyond. 
Across the lake was a sandy beach where Ave bathed, and 
often saw the frisky deer frolicking along the shore. 

What a rest one gets at a sporting camp ! AYhat a change 
from the rush, roar and rattle of the great city ! Dress as 
you like, roam at Avill through the OA^er-fragrant, health- 
giving Avoods, or paddle your OAvn canoe over a lake well 
stocked Avith the finny tribe. What a pleasure it was to 
meet people who had laid aside the cares of business for 
pleasure bent! What an appetite and Avhat refreshing 
sleep come to a guest of a sporting camp ! The epicure 
Avho thinks that at a sporting camp he Avill have to live in 
a hoA'el and subsist on "soAA'-belly," Avill be agreeably 
disappointed. The cottage Ave occupied Avas as neat and 
clean as the apartment of a first-class hotel. Iron bed- 
steads Avith spotless linen and a. mattress on thetlevel, not 
crescent shaped, Avere among the furnisliings. IIoav uncom- 



JFl-: AT A sri )KTIX(; CAMI'. 



113 



fortable is llir lu'd willi the licad a.iid foot lii^i;lier than the 
center. Th(* cnlinai y (lei)ai'tnient of the sportini^- camp 
(Mpialed that of any restanrant from tlie Battery to the 
r>i'onx. The waitresses were French, and their accent ^ave 
a kind of "])arh^z-vons Fran(;ais'' flavor to tlie viands. 
Tlie iiuesls of tlie sjjorting camp were counterparts to 




Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger. 



tliose you find in tlie average city hoarding-house. Tlie 
man was there who talks all the time, and the one Avho is 
a |L;ood listener. In the corner sat the (piiet iientleman who 
had hunted the State over, had canoed down the West 
Branch and the Allagash, Avas an expert caster of the line, 
and a true sportsman in every sense of the word. In the 
^^center of tli(^ stage" swaggert^l the citizen who never tired 



114 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

telling anybody who would listen to him of the herds of 
moose and deer he had slaughtered, what a crack shot he 
was, yet who couldn't hit a barn unless he was inside of 
it with, the doors closed and tlie cracks battened. The old 
lady whom everybody liked, and the sensible girl who wears 
well, were in evidence. The head of the table was monopo- 
lized by the gossipy, middle-aged "gal- ' who tried to appear 
girlish, dressed and painted to kill, ready to marry any 
man in or out of sight, and who disgusted everybody, and 
finally had to fall back on the attaches of the house for any 
attention at all. Scattered here and there were guides, 
who listened — and inwardly chuckled — to the impossible 
stories of a tenderfoot, and last, but not least, in striking 
contrast to the dyspeptic individual who kicks at every- 
thing and tries to sour everybody around him, was the fat, 
jovial fellow Avho is always in good humor, has a joke for 
everybod}^, the sunshine of the camp. 

Generally at sporting camps there is lots of literature 
lying around. Among other books at '^Mc's" were several 
depicting the pleasures of camping out. Two school teach- 
ers from Brooklyn, N. Y., got so enthusiastic over the 
camping-out subject that they could not talk of anything 
else. They finally prevailed on several of the guests to 
join them in a camping-out expedition. None cf the 
eighteen Avho composed the party had ever camped out ex- 
cept one, a doctor from New Bedford, ^lass. As a matter 
of fact, the only camping out lie ever did wa.s when a guide 
did all the work; yet to hear him tell it, what he didn't 
know about handling a canoe, pitching tents and the like, 
w asn't worth knowing. 

For a Aveek before the expedition started nothing was 
talked of but camping out; in fact, tliey all got so enthu- 
siastic about it that some of tluMu couhhrt sleep, nor would 



LIFE AT A SrORTING CAMP. 115 

they let anybody else. One of the ouests happened to men- 
tion a book he once read, "In the Glow of the Camp Fire," 
and the title caused the school-marms from Brooklyn to 
fairly yell with delight. The doctor from New Bedford 
was the great mogul of the outfit and would not listen to 
a suggestion of McNaughton's that they take a guide 
along. Mrs. ^IcNaughton worked herself nearly blind, 
cooking pies, bread and cakes for the crowd, and '^Mc'^ 
used up all the boxes and bags he had packing grub. The 
long-looked-for hour arrived. On rather a hot afternoon 
the eighteen enthusiasts in eii>lit canoes, loaded down with 
tents, guns, fishing-tackle, and no experience, amid songs, 
laughter and waving of handkerchiefs, passed down the 
historic waters of Schoodic Lake for a week's camping out. 
As they took tlieir departure a camera fiend from Key port, 
N. J., got a snapshot of them. 

The departing delegation was not aware that there is a 
"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" to camping out as well as to 
every other undertaking. As none of the campers knew 
anything about handling a carioe, their progress was slow. 
Four o'clock found tliem selecting a camping-ground. They 
looked to the doctor from Xew Bedford for the solution of 
all problems. After unloading the canoes, instead of 
taking them out of the water, carrying them up the bank 
and turning them bottom up, they left them partially in 
the water, tied to bushes. There were three tcmts, one for 
the ten ladies, one for the eight "sports," and a toilet tent. 
The doctor gave the directions for the procuring of the 
necessary material for setting up the tents. He got the 
forks and the ridge-poles up all right, but he neglected to 
tighten the guys. The sui)])(t was i^aten and, as the 
sun sank midst the forest, the ri\ui\) tire was lighted. 
How they all enjoyiMl their first experience around 



116 WHEN THE WnJ)WOOI) WAS IX FLOWER. 

a camp fire! Tired nature at bist asserted itself. Shortly 
after the ladies retired they called to the doctor that some 
insects Avere biting* them. "I will fix that.'' The doctor 
had heard of a smudge, but had had little experience there- 
with. The doctor's smudge turned into a fire which spread 
to the blankets and the tent, and the ladies had hardly time 
to grab their clothes and get out before the tent went down. 
The boys gave up their tent to the ladies, the former having 
the canopy of heaven for a covering. 

The camp was again quieting down when one could hear 
the low ruml)ling of distant thunder. Lightning began to 
flash across the horizon. A fast-increasing wind was swa}'- 
ing the trees. White-caps were forming over the lake. As 
raindrops l>egan to fall the storm burst in all its fury. 
With a yell from the female contingent, down came the 
tent, with the girls under it. The tent was with difficulty 
pulled off of them. Standing behind trunks of trees for 
protection, the campers passed the balance of the night. 
As daylight came, Avhat a Avreck was l)efore them! Every- 
body Avas Avet to the skin and so thoroughly disgusted they 
decided to return home. They went doAvn to the lake for 
the canoes, and the sight nearly droA^e them distracted. 
Six of the canoes had been smashed on the rocks, and the 
other tAvo they could see out on the lake, partially sub- 
merged. The question arose how would they return. By 
the shore of the lake, heading bogs, etc., it would haA-e 
been at least ten miles. Notwithstanding that the doctor 
had proven himself ''N.G.," they seemed still to haA^e con- 
fidence in him, so when he suggested that they take a short 
cut through the woods to the Bangor and Aroostook Rail- 
road, they acted on the suggestion. FolloAving the doctor 
resulted in their getting lost in the woods. 

McNaughton had spent many years in the Avoods and 



LIFE AT A Sr()ltTIN(; CAMP. 



117 



on the lakes of Elaine, and had seen storms and "Smart 
Alecks'' before, so after brc^akfast he invited me to oo with 
him and sch' how tlu* camiKM's had weatherc^l the storm. 
Down the shore of tlu^ lake we slowly paddled alonj;. W(^ 
had covered ahont live miles when the keen eye of McXau^h- 
ton saw somethino tloatino on the lake that didn't seem to 




"Admiral" McNaughlou aud His Floei. 

his likin<i. ''Mc'' paled when he came up to one of his 
canoes filled with water and another, near by, bottom up. 
We both thonuht a tra.uedy had taken i)lace. Soim^thinj*' 
alonji the sliore attract(Ml our attention. A chill went up 
and down ''.Mc's" vertebne as he saw, scattered alono- the 
shore, the wreckage of many of his best canoes. A short 
distance from where we landcMl we came to the cami) of the 



118 WHEN THE WILD^yOOD WAS IN FLOAVER. 

night before. In all hit days I never saAV such a sight. 
The tent was a tangled mass of canvas, poles and mud. The 
bread, pies and cakes that poor Mrs. McNaughton had 
nearly burned her eyes out to prepare were a mass of mud 
and dough. Boxes of provisions, blankets, clothing, fish- 
ing-tackle and the like, littered the ground. ''Mc,'' after 
viewing the wreck, turned to me with the remark, "^Vhere 
in ^Sam Hill' are they?'' 

AVe soon found their trail. It was easily followed, not 
only by their tracks, but by the cast-off ballast. The trail 
reminded me of a New York expression — "crooked as Pearl 
Street.'' Pearl Street, New York, was once a cow-path, 
and when built upon the buildings followed the winding 
cow-path. It almost doubles on itself. It intersects Broad- 
way twice. A common remark of a New Yorker when 
giving his opinion of a trickster is, "He is as crooked as 
Pearl Street." After an hour of trailing, "Mc" got sight 
of his guests. Coming up to them, the women were crying 
and the men swearing. As soon as the ladies saw the tall 
form of the "Sage of Schoodic" approaching they came for 
him with a rush, and if ever a man got a hugging, "Mc'^ 
got it then and there. They threw their arms around his 
neck, crying and kissing, until, under the pressure, "Mc" 
went down with the wouien on top of him in all kinds of 
shapes. I have attended many vaudeville performances and 
aduiired the display of woman's charms, but the show on 
Schoodic Lake when "Mc'' went down capped them all. 
They were a sorry, bedraggled-looking crowd. No one 
would have believed that it was the same party who 
had so gayly left "Mc's" the day before. 

After we got McNaughton out of a mass of tangled 
lingerie, a council of war Avas held, consisting of "Mc.'^ 
He decided to strike out for the B. and A. tracks, two 



LIFE AT A SrOKTIXG CAMP. Ill) 

miles away. Lookin<»- at his Avatch he saw he had time 
to get to the track before the way freight going iioith 
came along. He led the procession, I acting as rear guard. 
When I was a cow puncher on the plains there Avas always 
some steer in the bunch making trouble, and who would 
not behaA^e until you AAent after him Avltli a rawhide and 
Avinded him. The doctor from New Bedford reminded me 
of that steer. We ncA^er heard him after that expedition 
telling AAdiat he thought he knoAV about AA'hat he didn't knoAA\ 
^']Mc'' flagged the freight train. On the AA'ay from the sta- 
tion to the camp, the same camera fiend from Keyport, 
N. J., who caught the crowd before they left, got a shot at 
them on the return, and every new arrival at "Mc's" asks 
for an explanation of the tAvo pictures, "Before" and 
"After," which hang on the wall of the reception-room at 
"Lakeside Camps." 



120 WHEN THE Wn.DWUOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



VII. 
THE REFORMATION. 

One is alwa3's getting- into trouble who talks too mucli. 
While I was dining at Rector's one evening in the merrie 
month of May, I got a little too enthusiastic over a canoe 
trip I had made the summer before down the East Branch 
of the Penobscot. My descriptive powers seemed at their 
best, and I never let up until I had told the whole story, 
from Northeast Carry to Grindstone. There were three 
at the table besides myself. Two of the gentlemen I knew 
very well, the third, an acquaintance of one of them, was 
one of those unfortunate individuals — that is, I consider 
them unfortunate — who were born rich. He was a young 
man about twenty-five, was a member of several exclusive 
clubs, and spent his time sauntering along upper Broad- 
way decked out in English apparel, with a voice imitating 
a London swell, entertained the chorus — was, in fact, what 
our friend Roosevelt Avould brand as an ^'undesirable 
citizen." 

Imagine my surprise as this gilded youth entered my 
office the next morning. I asked him to be seated. On 
being answered in the negative to an inquiry on his part if 
smoking was offensive to me, he pulled out a cigarette-case, 
offering me one, which was declined. 

"Mr. Staunton, your description, by Jove! of that bloom- 
ing canoe trip last evening at Wector's so interested me 



THE REFORMATION. 121 

that I cawlecl to see — ah — if I could persuade you to take 
me ovar the ground, don't you know/' 

That was what I got for talking too much. I could 
think of nothing more unpleasant than to be in tlie com- 
pany of that cockney for the time it would take to make 
the trip. If it hadn't been that the gentleman who intro- 
duced me to him the night l)efore was one of my best 
clients, I would haA^e decidedly said ^^No." How hard it 
is to learn to say no! What a small word it is, yet how 
seemingly hard to pronounce I I began to make excuses. 
I spoke of neglected business; inability to finance such an 
undertaking; rheumatic tendencies; sickness in the family; 
and I don't remend^er now all f did or didn't say, but there 
was no complaint he didn't have a panacea for. He offered 
to pay all the expenses and reimburse me for any business 
I might lose, and I could take along any of my friends. 
The poor devil offered so much and hung on so long that 
I didn't have the heart to turn him down. We finally got 
down to figures, and before he left the office I had his check 
for |2,500. It was understood that we were not to leave 
on our trip until the middle of July, and I Avill give the 
Fifth Avenue dude the credit of having the good sense 
to keep away from my office until the time of departure 
was near at hand. The day after I got the |2,500 I called 
up two of my friends to meet me at Delmonico's, on Beaver 
J^treet, and take lunch, as I had struck something rich and 
wanted their assistance. The fellows I selected were two 
jovial, all-round sports of good family, and who had more 
brains than business and were ready for anything. They 
entered into the scheme with glee and agreed to help me 
give the young man the time of his life, and, in the language 
of the street, "a run for his money." 

About two Aveeks before our departure I was visited at 



122 WHEN THE ^Y^J)^v()OI) was in flower. 

my office bv a richly gowned, elderly lady, who proyed to 
be the youno- man's mother. Her yisit changed my plans 
with regard to my intentions toward her son. Instead of 
giying him the time of his life, I hoped as a result of her 
entreaties to show her son that there was something else 
than Broadway, the gambling-room of an Atlantic liner 
and the gay resorts of Loudon town. His dear mother, with 
tears in her eyes, told me of Iier fears for his future, and 
was glad that he was going away, eyen temporarily, from 
the haunts of the great city and his gay companions. The 
day after his mother called, T again by appointment met 
the two friends, and, like true sportsmen, they consented 
to do all they could to help in the reformation. I after- 
ward learned that his mother was at the bottom of his 
first yisit to me. He had told her of my story at Rector's, 
and it was she who preyailed upon him to make the call. 

As the ^'Horatio HalF' of the Maine Steamship Company 
was blowing her whistle on a hot afternoon in July as a 
signal to '^clear for action," there rolled on to Pier 32, 
East River, a coach containing my cockney friend, the two 
all-around sports, and the reformer ad interim. Stalking 
around the deck of the ^'Hall" got rather tiresome for the 
young clubman, and he proposed that we retire to one of 
the staterooms for a tjuiet game of draw. Instead, I iu- 
yited him to my stateroom for the first lesson in the refor- 
mation. I proposed then and there that he cut out the Eng- 
lish accent. I told him we were going among a class of 
people different from what he had been accustomed to, and 
I didn't want him and our party to be made a laughing- 
stock. I told him it would be a great relief to me and 
my friends if he would drop that cockney accent and go 
back to the language he had been taught — good old United 
States. His first impulse was to get 'iiot under the col- 



THE UEFOUMATION. 



123 




This is He, "Ah, There!' 



lar" at such a proposition, but, after rcasoniuii' with him, 
he finally consented. Before we got to Portland he was 
getting back to his mother tongue, and my first effort in 



124 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

the reformation was a success. As we rounded Cape Eliza- 
beth I told the Toung man that there was a law in Maine 
making it a misdemeanor for any male of age to part his 
hair in the middle. He retired to his stateroom and re- 
turned with his hair parted according to Hoyle. I also 
told him that a fellow once went into the Maine woods with 
a monocular glass and a moose took after him and ran 
him down. He took the hint. On our arrival at Portland 
he wanted to stop over a day at the Lafayette and give a 
swell dinner to our party and engage a box at the theater. 
I told him Ave had only money enough to carry us through 
and that we couldn't get a check cashed in the town. In- 
stead of a private dining-room at the Lafaj^ette, it was 
the lunch counter at the Union Depot. There is w]iere he 
got his first lesson in economy. I tried to impress the 
economy habit on him, and was not aware that 1 had made 
an impression until a little occurrence later on at Kineo. 
Upon our arrival at Greenville Junction we met the 
guides I had engaged. Here we purchased our wearing- 
apparel and provisions. Here this Broadway SAvell laid 
aside his London clothes for the Avoodsman's attire, it 
Avas about as hard a thing for him to do as it is for the new 
arriA'al at Sing Sing prison to don the stripes. LTpon our ar- 
riA'al at Kineo, where the boat stopped for dinner on its aa ay 
to Northeast CarrA^, I told the boA s here was our last chance 
to get a square meal, and I proposed that Ave take every- 
thing from soup to toothpicks. To the utter astonishment 
of all of us, my charge put in a veto, remarking that it 
was a Avaste of money; that ham sandwiches were good 
enough for him. My two old New York sports Avouldn't 
stand for tlmt kind of a deal. Preachers, as a general rule, 
don't ijractice Avhat they preacli, and possibh' the young 
man ])1()1)()S(h1 to try my mettle, but I didn't flinch ; so Avhile 



THE REFORMATION. 125 

the younp: man and I sat on the boat samplin^: ham sand- 
wiches and water, the two ohl sports were' in tlie dining- 
room of th(^ Kineo House Avashin.u (h)wn terrajiin en toast 
wnth Piper Heidsieck. That is wliere tlie boys got one on 
me. 

A thunderstorm that histed until dark necessitated our 
stopping overnight at the Winnegarnock, at Northeast 
Carry. There these all-around sports got the shock of tlu^r 
lives. They overlooked the fact that ^Maine was a prohibi- 
tion State and that water Avas to be the beverage from now 
out. They went for me for not providing for that con- 
tingency, and tliey Avould have given up the trip then and 
there if I hadn't informed them that at Mattagamon, which 
was only a shoi't distance away, they could get all they 
wanted, but I didn't say what of — and that is where I got 
one on them. That night I explained to the guides the 
object of the expedition. I told them the young man had 
never earned a dollar nor done a day's work in his life, 
and I wanted them to give him something to do. I told 
them to tell him that all they carried over the carries was 
the canoe and their own stuff, and that each party must 
carry his own personal belongings, and not to refuse if 
he offered to chop wood or help them in any way; in fact, 
rub it into him. 

The tliumb'rstorm liad cleared tlie atmosphere, the wind 
ha<I veered around to the north, and we breatlied iliat in- 
vigorating air, whicli only one who has been in the great 
North AVoods can appreciate. I began to find myself 
in a two-faced position. My two sporting friends began to 
chafe at turning the trip into a school of instruction, but 
after we crossed the carry and started down the pictures<iue 
waters of the West Bvanch, with that health-giving air 
filling their lungs, and the novelty of the situation their 



126 WHEN THE V>'ILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWER. 

minds, tliej began to realize what a canoe trip was over 
the waters of Maine, and were very thankful that the op- 
portunity was before them of participating in such a de- 
lightful adventure. The two sports, for the first time in 
many a moon, had gone twenty-four hours without a Man- 
hattan cocktail, and the Broadway swell without a Santa 
Cruz sour, something neither of them thought a possibility. 
In due course of time Ave arrived at Pine Stream Falls, or 
what was once a falls before they raised the waters of 
Chesuncook Lake. Here Ave Avere to camp for the night. 
Never before had any of the boys sat around a camp fire, 
and they enjoyed it thoroughly. 

The next morning my charge was bewailing the loss of his 
barber and his bath-tub. I told him it would improve his 
looks to let his Avhiskers grow, and, so far as the bath was 
concerned, the Avaters of the rivers and lakes of Maine were 
away ahead of Croton, both for purity and A^olume. 

Upon our arriA al at Mud Pond Carry Ave struck a piece 
of hard luck. On account of a breakdoAvn in connection 
with the outfit that totes ^^sports" over the carry, Ave Avere 
compelled to make it ourseh^es. There is one thing that 
can be said of a New Yorker, as a general rule, he is a 
good loser. If he was otherwise, he Avould not last long on 
Manhattan Island. But Avhat spenders! Not only haA^e 
they by their extraA^agance demoralized their OAvn country, 
but other countries as Avell. As Ave Avere loaded up to cross 
the carry, my charge dryly remarked that Ave looked more 
like immigrants just landed at Ellis Island than NeAV York 
bloods. 

On our arrival at Mud Pond, there stood six moose ready 
to receive us. None of my companions had ever seen a 
moose before. One of the sports remarked that such a 
sight Avas Avortli alone the price of admission. We camped 



THE REFORMATION. 127 

that nio-ht on Telos Lake, ^yhvn^ I intended to tarry a 
while and take the hoys over to Sourdnahunk Lake for a 
fishino trip. I learned there that a o-uide can make or spoil 
a trip. The guides entered into the spirit of the occasion. 
The remark that one of the all-around sports made wlien we 
lunched at Delmonico's came true : ^'We will oiyp iiii^ the 
time of his life and a run for his money." But it was a 
different kind of a '^time of his life" than was meant when 
the remark was made. I have done lots of fishin.t» in Maine, 
but the three days we spent on Sourdnaliunk and the little 
ponds in that locality were the most successful. We re- 
turned to Telos with as tine a string of fish as ever "came 
down the pike." On our return to Telos, one of the guides 
said he was going to take a bath. As he said the word bath, 
the two sports looked at him with astonishment. They had 
heard the pronunciation of the soft '^a" by swells along 
the Great White Way, but its use by a guide in the wilds 
of Maine was something they couldn't fathom. 

At Telos there was a good head of water, and we made 
the run through the canal and down Webster Stream with- 
out the usual difficulties. At Mattagamon, on Grand Lake, 
we got our mail. We spent two days in camp there, the 
time being passed reading the newspapers and an- 
SAvering our letters. At Mattagamon I decided never 
again to have any mail forwarded to me until the end of 
the trip. The information that our letters conveyed in a 
measure marred the balance of the trip. T^ntil our arrival 
at Mattagamon, while we were communing witli nature, 
everything was delightful, but as soon as Ave came in touch 
with civilization — our uuiil— our troubles began. A let- 
ter conveyed the information to me that the Court of Ap- 
peals had handed down a decision that knocked me out 
of a fee of |2,000. Both of my sporting friends got similar 



128 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

letters; stocks iu which they were both iuterested were off 
$30 per share. But the most disgusted one in the bunch 
was the young man. He was notified of the death of an 
uncle from whom he had expected a cool million or two, 
but, instead, he had been left, as the young man put it, 
"only the income on one million dollars.'' I don't believe 
I would have set up much of a howl if I had been left an 
assured income of |50,000 i^er year. 

The East Branch, from Grand Lake to Grindstone, is a 
battle between Avater and rocks ; one continuation of falls. 
There this young man realized Avhat Avas meant by hard 
work. From Grand Lake to BoAvlin Falls it was one 
continuous performance of loading, tramping and unload- 
ing, "backing and filling," so to speak. No Avonder the 
suggestion of the East Branch trip makes a guide shudder. 
It did me good to see the alcohol being tried out of those tAA'O 
old sports. If any reader of this article has a friend in 
need of trying out^ take him down the East Branch, and 
I Avill guarantee if he is aliA'e Avlien he reaches Bowlin Pitch 
lie Avill be devoid of all foreign matter. 

Upon our arriAal at Grindstone Ave again put on our 
Sunday-go-to-meetings, they having been sliipped from 
(ireenville Junction. When I tried to put on again Avhat 
was a loosely fitting pair of shoes, it seemed as if I Avas 
shoving my feet into a vise. Three weeks of moccasins had 
g'lYL'n my feet a chance to expand. We ridicule the Chinese 
Avomen for compressing their feet, and the society girl her 
waist, but how about ourselves? Will Ave ever dress com- 
fortably? I can recommend moccasins as the best corn- 
cure in the nmrket to-day. 

AVhile Ave Avere in camp at Hulling Machine Falls, after 
everything had quietcnl doAvn for the night, I received a 
call from the vouni; man. He excused himself for 



THE liKFOKMATlON, 



129 




The Author. 



130 WHEN THE WILDWOOD \yAS IX FLOWER. 

calling on me at so late an hour. He came to thank me 
for taking him on the trip and the advice I had given him. 
He said it had given him a chance to think over what a fool 
he had been, and on his return to the city he proposed to be 
a man. He spoke about his uncle's Avill and its reflection 
on himself, and he was determined to show his kith and 
kin that he could be trusted. On his return to the city he 
acted on the oft-expressed wish of his father to become a 
member of his firm, and to-day he is one of New York's most 
successful and respected merchants. If one should drop 
into Rector's at each recurring birthday of this once gilded 
youth, he would see sitting at a table, celebrating the event, 
the now respected merchant, the same two all-around 
sports, and your humble servant. 

These young men who are born with a silver spoon in 
their mouths, too indolent to follow a business calling, and 
who by a display of wealth demoralize the youth of both 
sexes, should, like the convict, be isolated with their kind, 
so they would no longer be a source of anxiety to their 
parents, a nuisance to those with whom they come in con- 
tact, and a menace to the State. 



THE END. 



I Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger, i 

g The first literary effort by the author of this book, g 

g was pronounced by many of its readers to be one of g 

g the most interesting of little volumes. Chief Justice ^ 

g Fuller, of the United States Supreme Court, wrote Mr. ^ 

g Stanton that it was ''the most excellent and vivid ^ 

g brochure" he had ever read. The book describes the g 

g three most popular canoe trips in the State of Maine g 

g — the Allagash, and the East and West Branches of g 

§ the Penobscot. The author tells most entertainingly g 

^ of his hunting and fishing experience, and also gives ^ 

§ plenty of information and advice useful to the reader, ^ 

§ as he takes him from New York City by the Maine g 

§ Steamship Company Line to Portland, thence through § 

§ the Maine woods, and brings him back to the city by the § 

^ Fall Kiver Line. The story is one of actual experiences, § 

^ and the author was fortunate to have as his companion § 

^ Dr. Hazelton, of Bangor, one of the best amateur ^ 

^ camera artists in the country, and the book contains § 

^ eighty half-tone pictures of the scenery and the wild § 

^ animals of the Maine woods. a^ 

^ The book is printed on specially made wood-cut ^ 

fSk paper, from large type, contains one hundred and ^ 

« twenty-five pages, fully illustrated, and is bound in ^ 

« attractive cloth binding, with printed inset on the p 

^ front cover. Price, one dollar, net. ^ 

^ & 

^ It can be secured at all bookstores, or it will be ^ 

g sent by mail upon receipt of price, $1.00, and 8 cents *^ 

g additional for postage. Address all orders to « 

i J. S. OQILVIE PUBLISHING COHPANY, I 

§ BOX 767. 57 ROSE STREET. NEW YORK. § 



235 90 






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